


Asymmetrical Resonance

by yamarik



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Soul Eater AU, mentions of crack ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-23 11:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17682323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamarik/pseuds/yamarik
Summary: After an incident involving a witch, the top two classes at Shibusen, who have historically been rivals, are forced to fight together. While some are more than happy to take on new partners, others end up struggling a bit.





	1. When Things Go Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I wanna write something with Scepter 4 ensemble/Homra ensemble crack ships!  
> Also me: Wait, how do?  
> And thus you get three actual ships with a few crack ships on the side that are poorly crammed in. Oops.

Yata Misaki, a weapon and student of Shibusen, woke up in the school infirmary and immediately could tell something was off. He wasn’t sure what- he left that kinda precision shit to his partner, Kamamoto. The teachers were always telling him he could do better, but he was fine with just vague impressions of changes in the air and a sense of when there was danger and where from. If you wanted to know more details and whatnot, ask his meister. 

Now aware of where he was, Yata closed his eyes and tried to recall how he had gotten here. Let’s see… There had been a witch. 

Right. The wasp witch. Melissa. She’d been giving Shibusen the run-around recently, working together with the bear witch Willa, and so all available personnel had been dispatched to deal with them. He and Kamamoto had been chasing Melissa, and had followed into a series of narrow canyons, and then… 

Oh yeah. It had been a trap. A barrier had formed around them, the witch had disappeared, and then Kamamoto had fallen, and like any dutiful weapon, Yata had transformed back into human shape to check on his meister. Something had stung his neck, and after that… 

After that, he must have passed out, because he remembered nothing else. 

Satisfied that he knew what had happened, Yata opened his eyes again and sat up to look around. When he did, his jaw dropped. Instead of the usual two beds, there were as many beds as could fit in the room. He could see one sticking out through the door, even. And every bed was occupied by a weapon or meister from one of the top two classes in the school: Class Homra and Class Scepter 4. Yata was in Class Homra himself, and damn proud to be there. He and Kamamoto had worked hard to get there. 

For so many of the top meisters in the school to be in the infirmary at once did not bode well. What had happened? Had the other teams somehow been summoned to rescue him and Kamamoto and fallen to the same trap? That was embarrassing. Now everyone would know they’d needed a rescue. Though at least their rescuers had also gotten their asses handed to them. Anything less and he would never have lived this down. 

Unable to touch the floor with all the furniture crammed into the room, Yata stood up on the bed and began carefully stepping over bodies to get out the door. He tried not to resent the fact that he could stand up straight when he knew many of his classmates would have had to stoop to avoid bonking their heads on the ceiling. He also tried to resist the urge to be a little less careful about stepping over the students from Class Scepter 4 out of sheer pettiness. He wasn’t very successful at either endeavor, though. What could he say? Everyone teased him about his height and also those Scepter 4 kids were all pricks. 

When he made it to the hallway, he saw that the bed-jam didn’t stop in the doorway, but continued well down the corridor. He stood on the bed in the doorway, not caring that his foot was on the pillow of that one ponytail guy from the other class, and watched as two more beds were slid into place by Neko-sensei. More people were injured? This was seriously bad. 

And then Shiro-hakase appeared cradling in his arms a small form that Yata knew all too well. 

“Anna!” Yata shouted, and transformed, using his weapon form, a skateboard, to dodge underneath the beds and close the distance that much faster. He returned to human form as Shiro-hakase deposited Anna’s unconscious form on one of the new beds, and stared at his classmate. 

Anna was the youngest student in their class track, but that was because of her sheer talent as a meister. She was a prodigy, and everyone was certain she would be the next to create a death weapon. Well, her or that Munakata guy in Class Scepter 4, but that guy cheated. His weapon was a special case with multiple forms. What bullshit. 

If Anna was down… 

Yata’s sixth sense kicked in to alert him to another presence, and he whirled as Kuro-sensei rounded a corner, Anna’s weapon Mikoto draped over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The sight was enough to cause Yata to stumble back and fall gracelessly onto his butt. Mikoto had fought independently for almost two years before partnering up with Anna. He was one of the strongest weapons in the school, second only to the death weapons and maybe Neko-sensei, and he was everything Yata aspired to be. That Anna had fallen in battle was already inconceivable, but for Mikoto to be downed as well was just… there was no way it could happen. Right? 

Just what the hell had happened? 

“We’re not entirely sure, but we believe the wasp witch launched some sort of attack on those who were pursuing her,” Kuro-sensei said in his usual clipped tones, alerting Yata to the fact that he’d asked the question aloud. “The peculiar part is that after rendering everyone unconscious, she seems to have backed off. Witches are not known for their mercy towards the agents of Shibusen, so why would she do that…?” 

That was a good question. Why would a witch attack everyone and then leave them alive despite having them completely at her mercy? The only answer Yata could think of was that she didn’t think they were worth fighting. That they couldn’t hurt her since they’d been taken down so easily. His fists involuntarily clenched; he hated being discounted so easily. Well, whatever. It just meant that they were being underestimated, right? And that was good, wasn’t it? 

“At this rate, the entirety of both Scepter 4 and Homra are going to be afflicted by this…” Shiro-hakase murmured. When Yata looked up at him, he was looking back down the hall worriedly. 

That was scary indeed. But so what if they’d lost this time? They’d just win the next battle instead. Nothing to worry about. 

* * *

Even before the teachers had called a meeting of the two classes, it had become apparent that they did, in fact, have everything to worry about. In the three days or so since the incident, they’d discovered something terrible. Like Yata, everyone else had gotten back on their feet pretty quickly, and, not noticing any negative side effects, had jumped back into their training. Or tried to. That was when they discovered that not a single one of them could match wavelengths with their partners anymore. Kamamoto had burns on his feet from trying to train with Yata, and when they’d tried switching with Totsuka and Kusanagi, who they had teamed up with before, things hadn’t gone any better. And rumor had it things were the same in Class Scepter 4 too. 

Yata and Kamamoto were the last students to arrive to the meeting. Mainly because Kamamoto had to drag him out of his room and from their apartment all the way up the many stairs to Shibusen campus. Yata knew he was petty to resent the Scepter 4 kids to that extent, but the others in his class weren’t much better. There was no love lost between Homra and Scepter 4. 

As soon as Yata and Kamamoto had taken their seats, Shiro-hakase stepped up to the lectern and addressed the students. 

“Thank you for coming everyone. As you all will have noticed, none of you can match wavelengths with your partners anymore. After some investigation we have determined that this is a direct result of the incident with the wasp witch a few days ago. It seems you were all stung with a poison that affects your ability to match wavelengths. The poison will wear off if the witch is defeated, but until then, your wavelength will automatically reject any of your classmates.” 

“If I may, why doesn’t it just affect our partners?” Kusanagi asked, raising his hand as he spoke up. That was Kusanagi for you- he had all the brashness of his classmates, but there was a polite streak thrown in so that he wouldn’t just blurt out his questions like the rest of them would. 

“Excellent question, Kusanagi-kun!” Shiro-hakase said excitedly, his eyes lighting up the way they did right before he delivered one of his peculiar lectures that no one really understood, not even the other teachers. Shiro-hakase had a way of simplifying what he was saying in such a way that it was still too complicated for idiots like Yata, but it was too dumbed down for people with intelligence. It didn’t help that he tried to draw diagrams even though he was a terrible artist. “When you match wavelengths with someone, it creates something like a thread between your soul and theirs. Resonance will make the threads even stronger.” As he spoke, the professor, predictably, grabbed a piece of chalk and began drawing a bunch of squiggles on the chalkboard, connected by lines. “This includes team resonance. In other words, anyone you have done team resonance with, and anyone they have done team resonance with, is connected to your soul. The poison Melissa hit you with isn’t actually affecting your soul itself, but rather your soul’s connections with the other souls around it. When you try and utilize those connections, the poison takes effect and causes rejection.” 

“So we won’t be able to fight?” a guy from Scepter 4 asked nervously, his voice coming out high as it bordered on panic. “Like, at all?” 

“That is incorrect, Hidaka-kun,” Kuro-sensei replied. “As it happens, Shiro was able to create a serum that will guarantee the effects of the poison will not spread any further.” Kuro-sensei looked smug, like it was his own accomplishment rather than Shiro-hakase’s. Neko-sensei had the same look too, but at least she was Shiro-hakase’s weapon. 

“Yeah, but what difference does it make if we can’t match wavelengths with anyone?” whined another Scepter 4 guy. 

“No, Fuse-kun,” Shiro-hakase soothed. “You will still be able to match wavelengths with people you haven’t worked with yet. And fortunately, it just so happens that your two classes have remained isolated up until now. There has been no matching of wavelengths across classes, which means that while you cannot work with your classmates, you can pair up with people from the opposite class.” 

There was an immediate uproar as every student there began to protest. Yata joined in of course. He’d rather be benched indefinitely than have to work with some snobby priss from Scepter 4! 

“Everyooonnnnnnnnne!” Neko-sensei screeched over the clamor, jumping up on the lectern and planting herself there to glare at them with her hands on her hips. Yata gaped, appalled that their teacher who wore tiny little mini-dresses all the time was all but displaying her panties to two classes that had only one female student each. “Listen to Shiro’s plaaaaaaan!” 

“Thank you, Neko,” Shiro-hakase said. 

“Neko, get down from there!” Kuro-sensei hissed at the same time. 

Neko-sensei sort of complied, hopping slightly and letting herself fall just enough that when she landed she was seated comfortably with her legs hanging over the edge. 

“Excuse me, but I’ve been wondering since the start, why the fuck am I here?” asked a Scepter 4 student. He had dark hair and glasses, and looked completely disgusted with the world. “Unlike these idiots, I didn’t fall into the witch’s traps, and besides, I’m a solo weapon. I don’t need a meister.” 

“Sorry Fushimi-kun, but we need you to even out the numbers,” Shiro-hakase said. “Class Homra has 6 weapons but without you class Scepter 4 only has 5 meisters. We need you to function as a meister, at least for the time being.” 

“How is that _my_ problem?” Fushimi grumbled. 

“Excuse me, sensei,” asked a soft-spoken guy with brown bangs swept across his face. “But won’t Class Homra also have an extra meister since Benzai and I share a meister?” 

“No.” Shiro-hakase shook his head. “The poison doesn’t just affect the connections between meister and weapon. It also affects meister and meister and weapon and weapon. You two both can be used individually, and you will have to split up since you currently cannot share a meister.” 

“Sir.” The only girl in Scepter 4 raised her hand and waited for acknowledgment. When Shiro-hakase nodded, she continued. “Won’t that mean that team resonance will still be impossible even with the new pairs?” 

Shiro-hakase nodded gravely. 

“I’m afraid it does,” he admitted. “It means you will have to train that much harder to account for the boost a team resonance would provide.” 

A lot of people looked uneasy at that, but Yata was pleased. Team resonance was always a pain. He and Kamamoto had done it a few times with various groups, but it seemed like more trouble than it was worth to him. They were supposed to be strong enough with just the two of them. Fighting in a group meant you were weak. 

“Anyway,” Shiro-hakase continued when no more questions were presented, “to save time, we already determined your pairs for you based on your soul wavelengths and fighting styles. When we call your names, please come up to meet your new partner.” 

As Yata watched, Akagi was paired off with that Hidaka guy, who was apparently a battle axe. Next that bangs guy, Akiyama, who was apparently a shield, was paired up with Fujishima. The Scepter 4 girl, Awashima, became Kusanagi the flamethrower’s new partner. Bandou, a bat, was partnered with a guy called Gotou, and then a saber named Benzai was matched with Chitose, while Dewa, a boomerang, was paired up with a guy named Fuse. Next, Kamamoto was stolen away from Yata to pair up with a rifle named Doumyouji, and Yata’s eyes narrowed as he noticed his meister’s replacement partner was also short (shorter than most of the other guys in that class anyway) and redheaded. He and Kamamoto seemed to be hitting it off, too, making Yata feel his meister maybe wasn’t as loyal as he’d thought. Jerk. 

Yata wasn’t really paying attention as Totsuka became the new meister for a shy guy named Enomoto who was apparently a set of nunchucks. He was too busy resenting his meister’s new best bud. But then he heard his name and jolted back to the present to see that glasses guy who had spoken up earlier, Fushimi, waiting next to the teachers. When Yata stood up, he looked less than impressed. Yata let out an annoyed huff and looked away, only to almost trip on the steps down to the stage. Fuck. He recovered and took his place next to his new meister, sulking. This was a bad start, for sure. 

Next Eric the chain was assigned to work with some guy named Kamou, and then Anna was paired up with that super presumptuous weapon Kusuhara, who had no less than four forms: a fan, a grappling hook, a chakram, and a naginata. That just left Mikoto, a rocket launcher, to be paired with Munakata. 

Once everyone was paired off, the teachers advised them to talk a bit with their new partners and set up a practice schedule. Much to Yata’s surprise, almost everyone complied easily. Kamamoto’s new weapon was already proposing they create a secret handshake, and Kamamoto, the traitor, was agreeing! Not far from them, Benzai had transformed and Chitose was taking a few experimental swings with him, getting used to the idea of fighting with a close-range weapon when his original partner, Dewa, was a ranged weapon. Eric, who was always slow to warm up to people, was smiling shyly at his new meister, and Fujishima appeared to be having a very serious conversation with that fop Akiyama. But worst of all… 

“A-Akagi-san!” Hidaka shouted out for everyone to hear, and Yata wanted to beat the guy to a pulp for it. So loud. “For quite some time I’ve admired you from afar! You’re kind, and selfless, and a talented meister who never uses his weapon as an air guitar like my partner always does. I look forward to working with you, and hope that this temporary partnership between us can become something more!” 

The entire room turned to stare at the blushing Hidaka. Then they turned to the equally red Akagi to await his response. 

“I-I hope so too,” Akagi finally stammered. Everyone gaped. It was strange enough to witness Hidaka’s… confession? Was that what that was? But to have Akagi accept it… Yata would never have expected it of his friend. 

After a long moment of everyone standing around in shock, people returned to whatever they’d been doing before. Kusuhara took over the chalkboard so he could explain his different weapon forms to Anna. Totsuka was gesturing wildly like he did when he was telling stories, leaving his partner looking slightly alarmed but still coaxing laughter out of the other. Kusanagi had that Awashima chick rolling her eyes but the corners of her mouth were turned up. Bandou and Gotou were having a janken tournament for some inconceivable reason. It was almost disgusting how easily everyone abandoned the bonds they’d formed with their classmates- Yata had thought they all meant more to each other than that. 

There were a few people who didn’t seem to be hitting it off though. Dewa and Fuse were both scowling at each other side-eye; not surprising given that Dewa was perpetually sullen, to the point that Chitose had been trying to convince him to dress up as a saltshaker for Halloween for the past 3 years. Mikoto and Munakata also didn’t seem to be buddying up, as they were currently locked in a staredown, each wearing a challenging smirk. There was so much tension between the two of them that no one would have dared to walk between them. 

And then there was Yata himself and his new partner, Fushimi. The latter had a cell phone out and was fiddling with it, completely ignoring everyone and everything as Yata gave him a once-over. Yata had no desire to talk to the guy- he was in Scepter 4 and had already demonstrated a shit attitude, and while he may have been kinda pretty now that Yata was getting a better look at him, he didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about anyone, let alone Yata. 

As far as first impressions went, Fushimi was giving a real lousy one. 

Yata began looking around for the teachers, ready to beg them to reassign him to a different partner, anyone, anyone at all, even a newbie meister or someone in the non-combatant class track, just as long as it wasn’t this asshat. None of the teachers were in sight, and Yata found himself looking toward the door to see if they were there, only to notice Fushimi- when had he left Yata’s side?- making an exit himself. Yata rushed after him, weaving past his disloyal friends and their new pals and skidding through the door so fast he almost tripped over his feet. 

“Oi!” he yelled, running to grab Fushimi’s arm. Almost immediately, the arm was surrounded by the light of transformation, and Yata just barely retracted his hand in time to avoid losing his fingers to the wicked-sharp blade Fushimi had made his arm into. Right, the guy had said he was a solo weapon. Like Mikoto had been before Anna came along. Like… he… still could be, couldn’t he? Danggit! If that was the case then why did Yata have to work with someone who didn’t want to be in the same room as him even? 

“Don’t touch me,” Fushimi spat. Yata refrained from pointing out that touching was kinda required for a weapon and meister to work together. 

“Yeesh, fine,” Yata grumbled instead. “Butcha can’t just run off like that y’know. I don’t wanna be partners with you any more than you do, but you heard the hakase. We hafta work together.” 

“Whatever,” Fushimi said, already turning away. “This is a waste of time. I’ve got better things to do than hang around with you, chibi.” 

“Yata,” Yata said firmly. 

“Gesundheit.” 

“It’s my name, you jerk!” 

“I would never have guessed, what with you being the one who responded when Shiro-hakase called out that name.” Ohohoho. So this guy was a smartass, huh? Yata hated him, and they hadn’t even known each other five minutes. 

“I was trying to formally introduce myself, _partner_ ,” Yata spat back. 

“Then you ought to have included a first name as well.” Fushimi smirked at him, and Yata saw red. He definitely didn’t want to mention his first name. 

“I don’t use it,” he hissed through gritted teeth. 

“Well I guess it’s a good thing I happen to remember it from the student registries, eh, Mi~sa~kiiii?” 

Yata’s jaw dropped at the sound of someone, and someone he didn’t even know at that, not just using his given name, but drawing it out in a mocking parody of song. While he stood there thunderstruck, Fushimi continued. 

“From your test scores, you must not be very bright,” Fushimi drawled. “I didn’t think it was possible to get a score of 6% on a true or false quiz, nice job. You’ve taken idiocy to an all-new level, Mi~sa~kiii.” 

Yata finally came back to himself. 

“You absolute ass!” he yelled. “What’s your first name if you feel so comfortable using mine like that, huh?” 

“You didn’t tell me yours so why should I tell you mine? Figure it out yourself. Oh wait, you can’t, can you?” 

“Like hell I can’t!” He could just look at the results of the net exam, after all. Except the next exam wasn’t for another month. He didn’t want to let Fushimi hold the advantage for that long. 

“Hmm, well, while you’re thinking about that, I’ve got places to be,” Fushimi said, turning yet again to go. He waved behind him as he added, “Don’t think too hard or your brain might overheat.” 

“No it won’t!” Yata protested, running to catch up to Fushimi. “‘Sides, if you’ve got places to be, wouldn’t this be a good chance to start working together? I could totally give you a lift.” 

“What, they’re letting kindergartners drive now? Seriously, can you even see over the dashboard? Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“Hey, I’m not that short!” Yata yelped. “And I meant I could transform and take you… wherever. I’m a skateboard, so getting around is kinda my thing.” 

“You’re… a skateboard,” Fushimi deadpanned, stopping in his tracks. Yata rolled his eyes and transformed, even going into battle mode so that he had spikes along his edges and curved blades along his ends. He could also shoot small flames off his wheels for additional speed, a feature that he’d picked up after he and Kamamoto had taken out a gang of arsonists. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” he asked. Not that he needed to, Fushimi, for the first time, was showing expression on his face as he outright gaped in awe. Heh, of course he was awed. Yata was a pretty sick weapon to have, and he knew it. 

“Please tell me this is some kind of joke,” Fushimi said tonelessly, and Yata switched back to human form to draw himself up in front of Fushimi, bristling with anger. 

“And what the hell’s that supposed to mean, huh? You got a problem, Fu~shi~miiii?” Yata tried to sing out the name the same way the other used his given name, but it didn’t manage to have quite the same mocking resonance to it, and it didn’t have nearly the same effect on the other as it had on him. Not to mention his voice just wasn’t as melodic sounding. Damnit. He just couldn’t win at all, could he? 

“My problem is that our teachers apparently expect me to partner up with someone, and not just any someone, but a runt with the most useless weapon form in existence,” Fushimi said, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “I don’t need a partner, least of all you. Besides, any weapon that’s even halfway decent ought to be able to fight alone. That you can’t do that is your fault, Misaki.” 

There was no song on Yata’s name this time, and for some reason that pissed him off even more. 

“Fine,” he snapped. “Prove it to me. We’ll go take a mission, both of us, right now. Something with multiple targets, like a mafia group or something. If you take out more targets than me, then you can work solo if you want to so badly. And if I collect more kishin eggs, then you’ll be my meister.” 

Fushimi scowled at him, clearly annoyed, but then clicked his tongue and heaved a heavy sigh. 

“Fine. Have it your way,” he grumbled. “There’s a mission I already signed up for before the wasp witch took priority that should work just fine. But we’re taking the bus to get there: I’m not going to rely on you to get there when you’re so tiny and will probably collapse long before we arrive.” 

“Hey! I carry Kamamoto all the time, and he’s the heaviest meister at Shibusen!” Yata shot back. “Compared to his fat ass, your scrawny skeleton ain’t gonna be nothin’! I’ll prove it!” Yata transformed. “Hop on, Fushimi.” 

“I said I’m taking the bus,” Fushimi complained. 

“And I said: Hop. On!” Yata insisted. 

“This is ludicrous.” 

“You’re the one making it ludicrous by refusing to just let me give you a ride!” 

“I don’t want to look like some loser by going around on a skateboard!” Fushimi tried to sneer, but he seemed almost… nervous? 

“Skateboarding is cool! Not that you’d know, since you’re totally uncool! I bet you can’t even skateboard, can you?” 

For once, Fushimi didn’t have a scathing witticism handy. He hesitated for a moment too long, then said, “... Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Yata transformed back to human and peered up at Fushimi, who avoided eye contact. 

“Wait, seriously?” Yata asked in disbelief. “That’s it? But it’s easy! I’ve been skateboarding since before I knew I was a weapon! Practically since I was a baby!” 

Fushimi just clicked his tongue again. 

“Well, whatever,” Yata replied, and god was this guy just the most stubborn asshole ever. “You don’t actually need to do anything if it’s me. Like, I can take care of all the steering and speed and stuff. You just need to stay on. No big deal, right?” 

“I suppose if it’s something an idiot like you can manage, then I should be able to pick it up without any problems,” Fushimi conceded after another long moment. “Let’s go.” 

Yata grinned and transformed yet again, waiting patiently as Fushimi stepped on. Almost immediately, however, there was already a problem. 

“Ummmm,” Yata said. 

“What?” Fushimi’s voice was even more irritable than what seemed to be his norm. 

“Your feet are too close together,” Yata explained. “The way you’re standing you’re gonna fall.” 

“Oh? And just who was all, ‘I’ll take care of everything, you just need to stay on’ a moment ago?” 

If Yata hadn’t seen Fushimi transform his arm into a curved blade just a couple minutes previously, he would have suspected the other’s weapon form was a cactus. Lord knew he was as prickly as one. 

“Key phrase there: _you need to stay on_ ,” Yata said. “And like I just told you, with your feet that close together, you’ll fall off. You won’t be able to balance. Seriously, if I took off right now you’d end up on your ass in the middle of the hallway.” Which would be funny, at least to Yata, but it certainly wouldn’t foster any teamwork between them. If anything, it might just prompt Fushimi to break their little deal. 

Fushimi clicked his tongue and adjusted his feet. 

“Better?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Yata said. “But you’re still too rigid. Bend your knees a little, will ya?” 

“Why? Will I fall off if I don’t?” 

“Uh, yeah, you’re probably gonna-” 

“I’ve got a better idea: why don’t I just transform some blades onto the bottom of my feet and hook them into you so that I won’t fall off no matter what?” 

“Dude, are you fuckin’ tryna kill me? Hell no! Just bend your goddamn knees, Fushimi!” 

“Tch. Fine,” Fushimi replied sullenly, and Yata felt a slight shift that he hoped to god was the other complying. “Anything else?” 

“Nah, that should be good,” Yata said. He wasn’t sure it was, really, but he couldn’t think of anything else off the top of his head and he was a little afraid of the fight that might happen should he make any other corrections. Was it too late to suggest Fushimi just sit down and cling onto him for dear life? Probably. He had a feeling Fushimi’s reaction would be to complain that such an action was too lame. Though he didn’t know why Fushimi was so concerned with his image when he clearly hated everyone and was also just as obviously a geeky nerd. “You ready?” Yata asked. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Fushimi grumbled lowly. Yata still heard though. He had excellent hearing. He chose to ignore it, since otherwise they would just keep bickering, and if the current trend was anything to go by, they’d never stop. Seriously, why was he going to such lengths to cooperate with such a disagreeable guy? It wasn’t like either of them needed it! 

Since Yata was never a big thinker, he didn’t feel like trying to figure it out. Too much effort. Pushing aside those brain-aching thoughts, Yata took off, barely remembering to keep his speed in check since he had a first-time skateboarder as a passenger. Even with his caution, he felt Fushimi wobble dangerously. 

And this guy was supposed to be his meister for a while? All meisters needed balance, and a skateboard meister most of all. How would they ever be a team? 

There was a more immediate problem to worry about though. If they were going anywhere, that meant taking the stairs from Shibusen down into the city. And somehow, Yata suspected that Fushimi wasn’t going to enjoy the experience. 

“So, uh,” Yata shouted over the sound of his wheels as they got closer and closer to the stairs, “we’re gonna have to jump onto a railing to go down the stairs. Or at least, I would recommend it. I can do stairs, but it gets a little bumpy.” 

He received neither affirmation or refusal. He wasn’t sure what to think, and given Fushimi’s earlier threat, he didn’t want to try something the other was against. 

“Fushimi? Did you hear-” 

“Just do what you have to!” Fushimi yelled, but there was a slight waver in his voice. Yata grinned to himself. Ohhhh, was Fushimi feeling a bit scared perhaps? Heh. Yata couldn’t help the surge of glee he felt to know he had this arrogant prick on edge, but at the same time it did make him a little nervous about what was coming next if Fushimi was already scared just from this much. They were on flat ground and not going that fast. Once they hit the rails… 

There was only so much Yata could do to control his speed when grinding down the banisters along the steep stairs to and from Shibusen. And sure, he could handle it- he knew what he was doing- but somehow he didn’t think Fushimi would appreciate flying down the rails and almost going airborne from the combination of speed and air resistance, only to rocket off at the end and zoom through the streets. Oh well. Nothing he could do about that. 

They finally exited the school and rolled over to the stairs, and Yata was even kind enough to warn Fushimi before he jumped. It didn’t stop Fushimi from releasing the slightest squeak, so quiet Yata wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t imagined it. And then they were on the rail and Fushimi was forced to crouch with the impact, only instead of righting himself he stayed down, his hands finding Yata’s sides and latching on. As they whooshed down the railing, the grip only got tighter. Painfully so. At least he wasn’t transforming any part of his hands into blades for extra purchase… Not yet, anyway. 

When they reached the bottom, Yata did his best to slow down, not wanting to stop right after getting off the rail because he’d tried that once and had gotten whiplash, and Kamamoto- who actually knew how to skateboard- had gone sprawling. All because that fortune teller’s stupid crystal ball had gotten knocked aside by a customer who hadn’t liked his fortune and had rolled into their path. The fortune teller was known for being nice to Shibusen students, so they’d been more than happy to take out their anger at the situation on the irate customer. 

They were almost down to the speed they’d left the school at when Fushimi spoke up again. 

“Stop,” he said through clenched teeth. When Yata complied Fushimi immediately got off, then awkwardly stumbled into a nearby ally, bracing himself against the wall with one arm. Worried, Yata transformed back into a human and followed after, hovering near the other. He was too afraid to touch Fushimi to try and support him or offer comfort, but he couldn’t just stand back and watch. 

“You,” Fushimi said darkly. “Are you trying to fucking kill me, moron?” 

“Huh?” Yata asked. Though really, he supposed it wasn’t all that surprising a question. 

“I get that you’re a moron, but don’t you know anything about physics at all? And about the limitations of the human body?” 

“Uh, I don’t really get that science-y stuff, but if you’re talking about grinding down that rail, Kamamoto and I do it all the time. We usually hit it way faster too, so we really shoot down! I’m being careful, honest!” 

“If that was you being careful, then-” 

“Don’t you fucking say it,” Yata interrupted, suddenly livid. “I’m so sick of you and your goddamn attitude, always bitching at every little fucking thing. It’s no wonder you’re a solo weapon, since is there any meister that can stand you? I bet not! So you know what, take the goddamn bus if you’re just gonna be a whiny little brat! Fine by me! I’ll just get there before you and there’ll be nothing left! So suck on that, asshole!” Yata transformed and started to head out of the city, only to realize he had no clue where he was going. 

Behind him, Fushimi heaved a sigh. 

“Idiot, according to our deal, you taking out everyone would mean we have to work together,” he muttered to himself. That skateboard guy really was such a pain.


	2. Getting to Know Each Other

Suoh Mikoto had been an independent weapon for years. Two of them, to be precise. Not that he cared if you were precise, because that shit was bothersome. 

A lot of people, when they first got to know Mikoto thought he’d been solo simply because he was strong. Others thought it was because he was too cool to accept any partners. Some were certain he was just too lazy. And then there were those who thought it was some combination of the three. All were wrong. 

It was true Mikoto was strong. He was a motherfucking rocket launcher, of course he was strong. And sure, he was lazy. He’d be the first to admit it if it weren’t too much effort to beat everyone else to the punch. As for cool, he guessed he was maybe? He wasn’t trying to be, but people seemed to think he was, so did that count? 

But the real reason Mikoto had eschewed tradition was not from confidence: if anything, it was from the exact opposite reasoning. To put it bluntly, he was scared. All because of the incident that had resulted in his enrollment at Shibusen. 

At one time, Mikoto had been something akin to a normal teenager. People told him he had a peculiar personality, which was a nice way of saying he was a total weirdo in their eyes. He was known to be violent, though really violence had sought him out the day he decided to dye his hair. 

It was this reputation that stemmed from his dyed hair that caused everything to go wrong. Mikoto hadn’t minded the occasional fight; they kept him on his toes, and the adrenaline rush was exciting. But it got to the point where he could hardly turn a corner without getting attacked. It was beginning to get annoying, and then one day when someone jumped him in the hallway of his middle school, he had thought to himself _Don’t they ever get tired of this shit?_ After that he’d raised his arms to block the hit and counterattack… 

When Mikoto awoke, there was a large crater in the hallway, and blast marks. Luckily no one had died, but almost 60 students were hospitalized. And there was no doubt about who was responsible, as Mikoto’s arm hadn’t changed back yet. It was his first indication that he was a weapon. While his schoolmates were taken to the hospital, Mikoto was rounded up by a pair sent from Shibusen, a female meister who had tried to demand money from the school for coming to get him, and her lantern weapon. 

On the way to Shibusen, the meister and the lantern had told him that he would learn to control his power as a weapon, and that he would never accidentally shoot anyone again, but Mikoto didn’t want to take that risk. So even when he got to Shibusen, he refused to pair up with a meister. Even once he was in control of his transformations, he still kept to himself. 

When Anna had been promoted to the advanced course, Mikoto hadn’t paid it any mind. When she first approached him, he’d assumed she, like many other meisters, had heard of Mikoto’s strength and wanted to pair up with him. He hated meisters like that. He’d much rather deal with the ones who trembled in fear when he approached, who scampered out of his way and cowered in his shadow. At least ones like that had brains. But Anna had been going around the class, looking at everyone through marbles that she claimed enhanced her soul perception abilities. When she got to Mikoto, she had smiled and told him that he had a beautiful soul. Like he hadn’t heard that one before. But then she’d said, “You are someone who protects,” and had walked on to the next person, and Mikoto had been so surprised he’d sought her out later to ask what she meant. 

“You are a weapon so that you can protect people,” she’d told him. “It’s in your wavelength. Some people are weapons so they can be strong, some so they can fight, some because they have the ability to heal. Anyone could become a weapon, but only people with special feelings in their wavelengths do. Your feeling is to protect.” 

“But I’ve never protected anything,” Mikoto had replied. “All I do is destroy.” 

“When you push everyone away, of course you cannot use your power right,” Anna had said. “You cannot protect the people who are important to you if you don’t let yourself care about anyone. If you let them in, your power will not destroy. It is definitely meant to protect them, Mikoto.” 

At first, Mikoto hadn’t really listened to Anna. And he certainly hadn’t paired up with her. But she would hang around with him, and he didn’t chase her away. She wasn’t the only one: from the beginning he’d found himself unable to evade a certain meister named Totsuka, who called Mikoto “King” and had never once tried to partner up with Mikoto. Along with Totsuka came his weapon, a flamethrower named Kusanagi. Before Anna came along, Mikoto had mostly ignored them, accepting that they would be there whether he liked it or not but not taking any initiative to be friends with them. After Anna arrived, however, Mikoto caught himself noticing them more. Totsuka was a goofy sort of guy, and hapless too. He was always laughing: laughing at things, laughing with people, laughing things off. And Kusanagi was like a string tying down Totsuka’s balloon to keep him from drifting too far: he was calm and logical, perpetually stressed but hiding it under an easygoing facade. And Mikoto didn’t like to admit it, but… they were kinda fun guys. 

Once he’d admitted that to himself, Mikoto became more interested in what Anna had said. Kusanagi and Totsuka were a decent pair in a fight- Totsuka was below average as a meister but Kusanagi more than made up for it with his firepower- but Mikoto found himself caring about them, worrying about them. He wanted Anna’s words to be right. No, he would _make_ them right. But he didn’t know how to do it alone, so he asked her to be his meister. 

Most people, when they saw Anna and Mikoto, tended to assume that she was the one who had initiated their partnership. And in a way she did, with her words that had so befuddled Mikoto. But she hadn’t spoken up with the intention of becoming partners; in fact she’d been surprised at the idea of them pairing up when Mikoto had broached the subject. It made Mikoto laugh sometimes though, how people were certain that Anna had wanted a strong partner and that he had accepted out of boredom or because he was too lazy to properly refuse. 

Regardless, it had been just over a year now of their partnership. Just over a year of Anna channeling Mikoto’s power to protect, of her limiting his destruction. In that time, he’d grown close to his classmates, and had even formed a team with some. There was of course Totsuka and Kusanagi, who Mikoto now couldn’t picture not having by his side, and also Yata, a reckless, hotheaded idiot with a skateboard form and his meister, Kamamoto, who was a capable fighter but whose real job was to keep Yata from picking the wrong fights. There was another team they sometimes worked with, and Mikoto was fond of them too, even if he didn’t spend as much time with them. 

Just when Mikoto was getting used to this pace, with friends he cared about and a meister to protect, the incident with the wasp witch had occurred. It had been a shock to him when he and Anna had suffered their defeat, as he’d gotten used to them being the strongest. It had been something of an awakening, realizing that he had gotten complacent, and that he and Anna were a pair of big fish in a rather small pond. It had been so shameful, to wake up and discover that he had failed to protect his meister, and that the two of them had had to be carried back to Shibusen by a rescue team. Worse still, he had soon discovered that all his classmates, all those he held dear, had suffered the same humiliation. 

As if that weren’t enough to grate on his nerves, he’d then found himself unable to match wavelengths with Anna. He’d assumed it was his fault, that the shame of their defeat had shaken him so badly that his wavelength had faltered, but Anna had assured him that this was not the case. He hadn’t really believed her though, until the meeting where they’d gotten the most horrifying news of all. 

Now, instead of Anna, his dear meister who was like a little sister and a doting grandmother at the same time, he had the worst possible person to wield him: Munakata Reisi. Munakata was attractive, sure, and intelligent, but he was alarmingly moral and smug as all get out. And boy could that guy preach. Could, and did. Infuriating. 

Mikoto and Munakata had been in the same orientation group when they first arrived at Shibusen. Munakata had asked a ton of questions, to the point where the teacher running the orientation- some zombie guy who had since quit teaching but could still be seen around the school at times- had started to simply ignore Munakata, and had also labelled him “ox junior” for some reason. Later, when everyone was trying to find someone they might pair up with, Munakata had peered at each weapon in turn before rejecting them. When he’d gotten to Mikoto, he’d abandoned his polite refusals of “I’m afraid a partnership between us will not be possible” in favor of a slight shudder before stretching his face into a pained version of his previous smile and a comment of “Oh heavens no. Definitely not.” 

Yeah… Mikoto wasn’t one to let a lot get under his skin, but right then and there, Munakata certainly had. 

(Munakata had continued until he saw Kusuhara Takeru, at which time his eyes had lit up and he had immediately launched into a speech that left no room for refusal from poor Kusuhara. They’d been partners ever since.) 

So yeah. That guy was Mikoto’s partner now. The same guy who had been so against partnering up with him before. As far as Mikoto was concerned, his looks were about the only good thing about him. 

And thanks to Munakata’s apparent inability to feel embarrassed, he knew Munakata thought the same of him. Munakata could be quite unabashed in his ogling. 

So they’d been paired off and were having a staredown in the middle of a slowly emptying classroom. The others, perhaps out of self-preservation, had begun clearing out- once Yata and his new partner had left then others had begun to follow, until at this point the only others left in the room were Kusanagi and that chick he was with, Anna and Kusuhara, and Bandou with his new partner. The unwavering eye contact between Mikoto and Munakata was getting a bit silly by then, but Mikoto refused to be the one to back down. Of course, Munakata seemed to be the same. 

And then Kusanagi just had to go right out and say it. 

“I really can’t tell if those two want to kill each other here and now or make out.” 

He’d said it in an undertone, meant to be an aside for his new meister, but given how little other noise there was in the room by then, it carried. Bandou’s new partner, who had been chattering on about curse practices in Cambodia, went silent with a choking noise, and he and Bandou shared a glance before hightailing it out of the room. In his peripheral vision, Mikoto saw Kusuhara, Anna, and the other girl all turn to face Kusanagi, presumably to give him significant looks. In front of Mikoto, Munakata’s mouth twitched, though whether it was in amusement or distaste was impossible to say. Mikoto felt his own mouth do the same. 

“Oops,” Kusanagi said, though it was clear from his tone that he didn’t truly mean it. Someone sighed, and since it seemed somehow masculine Mikoto assumed it was Kusuhara. 

“Alright, Reisi,” Kusuhara said, stepping into Mikoto’s line of sight and up to Munakata. Mikoto continued to stare, not blinking. “That’s enough of that.” 

“Nonsense,” Munakata said. “I haven’t won yet. Please do move, Takeru. I need to be sure he hasn’t given up yet. You know I will not accept anyone weak-willed as a partner.” 

“Mikoto,” Anna said, and the top of her head also tried to obstruct Mikoto’s vision. He had enough height on her though that she couldn’t really block him from seeing. “I think you and Reisi will work well together,” Anna continued, because she was always one to say her piece when that’s what she wanted to do. 

“Haaaaa?” Mikoto said, forgetting his staring contest to frown at Anna. 

“I beg your pardon?” Munakata said at the same time, stepping around Takeru to gaze at Anna perplexedly. 

“I think you two will work well together,” Anna repeated, turning to face Munakata. “You two could be very strong together.” She turned back to Mikoto and added, “You’ll definitely be able to protect everyone now.” 

Mikoto finally found his voice, which had been lost in his shock. Anna had a way of doing that to him. 

“You’re outta your fucking mind,” he grumbled. It was the same exact words he’d used when he’d first confronted her about his protective wavelength; it was a sort of code to her to let her know that he was dubious, but was willing to at least try since he trusted her and she had been the one to suggest it. But really, Anna’s wisdom aside, he wasn’t sure how he could possibly work well with this guy. 

“I second that opinion,” Munakata concurred, “although I would prefer not to put it quite so eloquently. Perhaps ‘I find the sentiment expressed in that collection of statements to be highly absurd’ would be more towards my chosen wording.” 

“You know, I’m pretty sure both your versions are kinda extreme ways of saying it,” Kusuhara pointed out. “The rest of us mere mortals would choose something a little more middle ground. Just sayin’.” 

“Out of curiosity, why do you think they would work so well together?” Kusanagi’s new meister asked Anna, stepping forward. 

“Reisi’s wavelength is about order,” Anna explained. “Order is meant to protect people, just like Mikoto’s wavelength is dedicated to protection. Alone, Reisi can keep order in a small area, and Mikoto can protect a few people. But together, you can keep order in a large area and protect all the people within. That’s what your wavelengths say.” 

“Forgive me for doubting your ability to read wavelengths,” Munakata said. “But since when has Suoh’s wavelength been one for protection? Every time I look at it, it is one of the most turbulent souls I have seen.” 

“Order and chaos are not exclusive,” Anna said. “Chaos can be orderly, and order can be chaotic. Even in their perfect forms, there is still some order in chaos and some chaos in order. Mikoto’s wavelength is chaotic, but your order needs it, just as he needs your order. I am certain of it.” 

“Be that as it may, please understand that I have my qualms about using a weapon so indelicate as a rocket launcher,” Munakata said, but he had a smile on his face, as if he had hoped for just this outcome. 

“Oh please, like you aren’t always saying that you wish my weapon forms would be more destructive,” Kusuhara said, his tone innocent in order to counteract the grin on his face. “You complain all the time that while my various forms are useful, they lack impact. Well, ya can’t get much more impact than a rocket launcher!” 

Kusanagi snorted, and his meister was trying very hard to look affronted despite the way she was shaking slightly from withheld laughter. And Munakata, pain-in-the-ass that he was, only grinned even wider, as if things were going just the way he wanted. 

“Whatever, I’m going to nap,” Mikoto said. He liked naps. They were a habit he’d taken up before Anna had come along, since when he was asleep he wouldn’t lose control. He didn’t rely on them as he once had, but he still enjoyed them. Plus it was nice to have something of a fail safe for if anything happened- like becoming unable to match wavelengths with Anna. 

He only got halfway to the door before a hand on his shoulder stopped him and Munakata’s chiding voice spoke up not far from his ear. 

“Suoh, we really ought to get some practice in,” Munakata scolded. Mikoto groaned in response. 

“Besides,” Munakata added, actually speaking into Mikoto’s ear now with a lowered voice intended for Mikoto only (and no that did not send shivers down his spine), “we could always take the opportunity to make a decision regarding Kusanagi-kun’s earlier suggested courses of action.” 

“Ah, whatever,” Mikoto huffed, but with his back turned to everyone else, he didn’t have to suppress his grin. Munakata really was an irritating guy. Irritating, but irresistible. 

He may or may not have had his hopes up for the latter of Kusanagi’s two suggestions right about then. 

* * *

Awashima was _NOT_ a fan of her new weapon. Oh sure, he was witty… in an annoying, over-the-top, oh-my-god-will-you-please-stop, kind of way. And he was charming… in an I-know-you’re-just-a-flirt kind of way. And he was handsome… in a scruffy, shaggy, leave-him-out-in-the-yard-in-case-he-has-fleas kind of way. All in all, he was a bit like a stray dog that followed you home and begged shamelessly for food and you couldn’t help but like him but didn’t necessarily want him to stick around. 

The problem wasn’t the guy himself. As already stated, Kusanagi Izumo had his good points and was certainly endearing. But he was one of the most absurd weapons Awashima had ever encountered. All of the Class Homra weapons were. The only one that wasn’t completely a thug’s weapon was the boomerang. As for the rest… 

Well, she had heard of weapons that were even more peculiar before. Like the rumors of there being a “demon mirror” death weapon. And a lamp. And Ameno-sensei was a parasol. And… okay, so maybe Shibusen had a history of training some bizzare weapons, but still! Class Homra was nothing short of ridiculous, and that was that. 

It also didn’t help that Awashima was a little bit afraid of fire. And who could blame her? Fire was hot, it was destructive, it hurt if you got too close, and being the person holding a flamethrower was entirely too close in Awashima’s opinion. The only way it could be worse was being on the business end. 

She’d tried to make it work. Really. Like everyone else, she and Kusanagi had gone and gotten in some practice after the meeting (and after Kusanagi had aggravated things between Munakata and Suoh, which, really Kusanagi, learn to read the mood a little. They were having a _moment_. A _MOMENT_. Don’t go disturbing things like that!). Their training session had ended, however, after the two of them had managed to incinerate the door to the room they’d been practicing in, and had left the walls, floor, and ceiling all distinctly more charred than they had been before their practice. It was clearly a disaster in the making, and Awashima needed an alternative. This simply could not work. 

If only Kushina-san had been a weapon. She seemed sensible, and level-headed, and also as the only two girls they could bond and show all the boys how it was done. And also the girl looked like a doll and it was just the cutest and at the end of the day, Awashima did like cute and pretty things. 

But no, Kushina-san was a meister, and Awashima was stuck with the flamethrower. 

Or was she? 

She’d heard stories before of the sacred sword, Excalibur, a legendary weapon who could be wielded by great heroes. And while Awashima didn’t see herself as great, or as a hero, perhaps she still could do it. After all, a true hero was humble, and didn’t think themself worthy, so perhaps her lack of confidence was just a sign she was a true hero. 

Or maybe she was just deluding herself, but she felt really uneasy about having to partner up with a flamethrower until Melissa was defeated. It was possible that she would be taken out any day now, but it was also unlikely. She’d been giving Shibusen the runaround for weeks, and now she had struck a devastating blow against their top students, limiting their fighting forces. And to top it all off, she’d done that all by herself despite the fact that she had another witch on her side. 

Whatever the case, partnering with Excalibur was definitely more suited to Awashima. After all, a sword was far more similar to her saber and shield than a flamethrower, and it didn’t include any gimmicks that might kill her and their allies as well, and that settled it, she was definitely going to try and find the holy sword. 

A quick trip to the library helped Awashima find exactly what she needed- a biographical tome detailing Excalibur’s exploits that also happened to include a convenient map to the cave where Excalibur typically resided when not in use. Perfect. She could quick make a photocopy of the map and be on her way. 

As she made her way over to the copier, Awashima collided with someone, and fell to the ground, the book spilling out of her hands. As a meister, she prided herself on her sense of balance and her physical ability, so when the other person not only knocked her over, but also didn’t fall over themself, she knew it had to be another meister, and a good one at that. 

“Ah, Awashima-kun,” Yatogami-sensei said as Awashima herself stammered out an apology. “No need to apologize, it was a simple accident. Here let me get…” Yatogami-sensei trailed off, his hand hovering over the book Awashima had dropped on the ground in her fall. Awashima looked over to see his eyes had gone wide and he had a shocked and slightly alarmed expression on his face. 

“Yatogami-sensei? Is something wrong?” she asked. 

Yatogami-sensei shook himself, and picked the book up, straightening with a smile. But where Yatogami-sensei typically had a gentle and indulgent smile when he looked at his pupils, the expression he currently wore was strained, more like the smile he used when Ameno-sensei was up to her crazier antics but he didn’t want to show his rage in front of the students. Awashima supposed his reaction might not be unwarranted though. She was going behind the teachers’ backs a bit by trying to seek out a partner on her own. 

“I see word of the sacred sword has reached this generation then,” Yatogami-sensei finally said, his voice heavy. “Am I to assume you mean to give Excalibur a try?” 

“Yes,” Awashima said bluntly, because there was no point in beating around the bush, and even if there was she preferred to be direct. “While matching wavelengths with Kusanagi-san does not seem to be a problem, I find it doubtful that he and I will be an effective pairing, and therefore, I opted to look into other solutions. Furthermore, with Excalibur as my weapon, I believe I would be more useful in the hunt for Melissa and Willa. I see very little risk with a large payout possible, so I thought I might attempt it.” 

“I see,” Yatogami-sensei said, taking in a deep breath through his nose. 

“What do you see, Kuro, hmmm?” Isana-hakase asked, suddenly appearing as if by magic and draping himself on Yatogami-sensei’s shoulder. 

“That you are a complete and total, irredeemable imbecile,” Yatogami-sensei deadpanned without missing a beat, but Isana-hakase’s eyes had already caught sight of the book. He leapt back with an inarticulate cry, and promptly tripped over his feet to fall onto his butt. Awashima privately had to wonder how someone like Isana-hakase could truly be a great meister when he demonstrated such clumsiness at times. 

“K-Kuro, I never thought- I mean, I understand you can be quite devoted and all but- to think that you’d-” 

“Not me, Awashima-kun!” Yatogami-sense snapped, then, remembering himself, he straightened up and coughed once as if to erase his outburst. He handed over the book with a calm “Here you go, Awashima-kun. Best wishes to your endeavor, although I do recommend you take your current partner with you for your journey. You never know when you might run into trouble, especially with a couple of dangerous witches on the lam.” 

“Ah, yeah, good idea!” Isana-hakase said, nodding enthusiastically and jumping to his feet. He brushed himself off absentmindedly. “That way you can-” he cut off with a stern glare from Yatogami-sensei. “Anyway, it would be wise to take Kusanagi-kun along. It’ll be good.” 

“But wouldn’t facing off any dangers on the road to Excalibur’s dwelling be a test of one’s merit?” Awashima asked. 

“No way,” Isana-hakase said, waving a hand in dismissal. 

“The journey itself doesn’t matter,” Yatogami-sensei said. “The only test of your mettle will come once you meet the sacred sword. No one can help you then. Even I found it impossible.” 

“Ehhhh, Kuro, you never said you tried to partner up with the legendary weapon!” Isana-hakase accused. 

“It is a humiliation I don’t think I shall ever live down,” Yatogami-sensei said wearily, turning his head to the side to avoid making eye contact. 

It almost made Awashima feel guilty, to attempt to achieve a glory that her earnest teacher had failed at, and had been shamed by. But still, given the alternative was trying to work with a weapon she was completely unsuited for, she would have to carry on. Besides, Yatogami-sensei was never one to resent others their achievements, especially not his students. 

“Then, if you’ll excuse me, I have a copy to make and then I’ll need to go track down Kusanagi-san,” she said, trying to escape her teachers before they started being… whatever they were. Awashima was never certain what the relationship status quo was between Yatogami-sensei, Isana-hakase, and Ameno-sensei, and frankly, she didn’t want to know. The two men thankfully waved their goodbyes and she was able to get to the copy machine without further incident. 

Twenty minutes later she found Kusanagi listening to one of his classmates- Yata Misaki she was pretty sure his name was- ranting about something or other. If she remembered correctly, Yata-kun was the one who’d been paired with Fushimi-kun, who was infamously unsociable. She’d personally hoped that being forced to work with a partner would force Fushimi-kun to open up a bit more, since it was worrisome just how much he pushed people away. 

When Kusanagi finally extracted himself from his classmate’s complaining, Awashima couldn’t help but pry a bit. She hated to be nosy, but if there was anything she could do to help, perhaps she should get involved after all. 

“I take it Fushimi-kun is proving to be a difficult partner then?” she asked. 

“Huh?” Kusanagi asked, seemingly distracted. “Oh, right, that’s Saruhiko’s last name. Nah, they’re getting along fine. Or at least I think they are. Yata-chan tends to have as much vitriol for his friends as his enemies, so it can be a bit hard to tell at times.” 

“So he and Fushimi are friends?” Awashima asked incredulously. 

“Who knows?” Kusanagi sighed with a shrug. “Like I said, it’s hard to tell. I think so, since he has said a few nice things about the guy and he’s simple-minded enough that he has a hard time hating someone and admiring them at the same time, but it’s always possible that he matured in the last 24 hours. I could ask him if you like. If he blushes when he denies it, then that means they are.” 

“That isn’t necessary. I just assumed that since Fushimi-kun is so difficult…” Awashima trailed off. 

“That that’s what Yata-chan was chewing my ear about?” Kusanagi asked. Awashima inclined her head in confirmation and Kusanagi laughed. “Well, he certainly had plenty of complaints when he got back from their mission yesterday, but once he heard what the other guys had to say about their new partners, he found something else to complain about.” 

“What do you mean?” Awashima asked, curious. 

“Oh, he’s just mad everyone’s getting along fairly well. I mean, Akagi said he’s thinking of accepting Hidaka’s confession, and Chitose asked if anyone else wanted to join him and Benzai for a movie, and then apparently Gotou’s got Bandou convinced they should start a band, and Totsuka was showing off a keychain he got and saying it’s a pair one and Enomoto has the other half… Yata-chan kinda considers your class and ours as rivals, so the fact that everyone’s getting along doesn’t sit well with him. He keeps going on and on about betrayal, though I think part of that’s because Kamamoto and Doumyouji have plans to either take a tropical mission and go surfing or take a mountain mission to go snowboarding. That and also Mikoto’s brand new hickey… Honestly, at this point I’d almost rather hear him complain about Fushimi. At least then I could tease him. And sorry, now I’m taking it out on you that I’m sick of him taking things out on me, but right now me and Anna are the only ones he isn’t being pissy with, and Anna’s been working hard trying to get the hang of Kusuhara’s different forms so he can’t complain to her. I love that kid to death, don’t get me wrong, but I do get tired of his bitching.” 

“I wasn’t aware you had that kind of relationship with him,” Awashima said, knowing full well that wasn’t what Kusanagi had meant. 

“What, like family?” Kusanagi replied without hesitation. There was a wicked glint behind his sunglasses indicating that he had caught on to her humor. “Yeah, you get stuck hanging around annoying people who you have to worry about long enough and of course they’ll feel like siblings to ya.” 

“I suppose I do understand what you mean,” Awashima mused, unable to stop herself from thinking of her own classmates. He was right, after all the time they’d spent together and all they’d been through together, they did feel like brothers to her. 

“Anyway, what did ya wanna do? More practice since yesterday went so badly, or do ya feel up for an actual mission?” Kusanagi asked. 

“It’s not quite a mission, but more a quest,” Awashima said. “There’s someplace I’d like to go and Yatogami-sensei advised me not to go alone. Isana-hakase also seemed to think it was a good idea.” 

“Oh, where’s that?” 

“Have you ever heard of the sacred sword, Excalibur?” Awashima couldn’t help the lofty tone in her voice as she said it. But despite all his grand exploits, Excalibur was something like a Shibusen secret. 

Kusanagi, surprisingly, grimaced. Perhaps he didn’t like not knowing something? 

“Yeah, I heard of that guy,” Kusanagi said weakly. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try and partner with him.” 

“Kusanagi-san, while you are a more than capable weapon, I think you would be better suited to another meister. I do not think I am capable of fully utilizing your strength, and should seek another weapon. Perhaps I am getting full of myself thinking I could wield the holy sword, but I’d like to at least try.” 

“Er, you do realize he’s legendary in more ways than one, right?” Kusanagi asked, and despite his sunglasses Awashima could see his gaze was directed away from her in discomfort. 

“Yes, I am aware that he has had many great wielders, and that I am nothing in comparison to them. But I am still a student and-” 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Kusanagi said cutting her off. He sighed. “And you’re sure the senseis said I ought to go along with you, right?” 

“There’s no other way it could possibly be interpreted.” 

“Right.” Kusanagi’s shoulders sagged. “Well, okay then. Let’s get this over with.” 

Perhaps he was offended by her seeking another weapon. But surely he’d noticed how impossible their partnership was? 

“I assure you, it’s nothing against you personally that has me interested in Excalibur,” she told him. 

“I’m relieved to hear it,” Kusanagi said. “But that’s really the last of my worries at the moment.” 

“You need not be concerned, Yatogami-sensei told me that the journey isn’t dangerous.” 

“You know, I’m almost disappointed to hear that,” Kusanagi said lowly. It probably wasn’t meant for her ears, but Awashima responded anyway. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Oh, uh,” Kusanagi scratched his head nervously. “Just uh, I think it’d be good, you know. Since you’ll probably be nervous about meeting the holy sword, so a quick scuffle along the way might help ease the tension a bit, right?” 

“That’s rather considerate of you,” Awashima said, smiling. It really was a shame Kusanagi didn’t have a better weapon form. “But I’m sure I’ll manage well enough.” 

“Yeah, I hope you do,” Kusanagi said.


	3. Learning to Play Nicely

The first soul Fushimi ever consumed was his father’s. Fushimi Niki had been wanted by Shibusen for years before that, under many different pseudonyms. But Niki was too smart to be caught by Shibusen. Unfortunately for him, his son was even smarter. 

Niki had started down the road to becoming a kishin quite by accident. As a small child, he’d come across the soul of a homeless man who had died, and, in curiosity, had put it in his mouth. Before he knew it, he’d swallowed it. The experience slid to the back of his mind, until, years later, he saw another soul being retrieved for disposal. Once again, it was curiosity that drove him into learning more about souls. When he read that consuming souls made one stronger, he was sold. 

Niki started off cautiously. He planned carefully, spreading out his kills in both time and space, always changing his methods in order to prevent his crimes from being connected to each other. His targets were random so that he wouldn’t get caught by being predictable. He took every precaution, and it worked. He was wanted internationally, but each agency who sought him believed they were searching for a murderer whose crime had been an isolated incident. No one knew they were tracking a serial killer. 

The game changer had been when Niki got married and his wife gave birth to their son. At first his little monkey was just a toy, someone to pick on and have fun with. But thanks to Niki’s cruelty, Saruhiko awakened as a weapon at a young age, producing a blade from his back to stab his father’s arm. Niki, outraged, had punished Saruhiko, but already, lightbulbs were flashing in his mind. If his son was a weapon, it would make collecting souls for himself all the easier, and it would give him the ability to fight back against anyone who might come for him. He’d demanded Saruhiko master transformations, and soon he began taking souls far more quickly, going from months between killings to weeks or even mere days. Yet he still managed to maintain his careful planning and remain at large. 

It was only after some very subtle manipulation by the younger Fushimi that the world connected the dots and realized that there was a connection between any of Niki’s killings. It took a little more finagling to set them on Niki’s trail. But Niki got wise and tried to flee, and so Saruhiko had finished things himself. Shibusen forces arrived to find a glasses-wearing prepubescent boy waiting impatiently for them, along with a single kishin egg. After some investigation, Fushimi Saruhiko was enrolled at Shibusen as a student, and was awarded the kishin egg, his father’s soul, as thanks for his role in Niki’s demise. 

As a result of his childhood being toted along on murders by his father, Fushimi had learned that people used each other. They were cruel and vicious, and he didn’t need them. And he certainly had no intentions of being used by anyone else, ever again. No one would wield him but himself. 

And yet here he was, suddenly assigned a partner against his will. Sure, he was expected to act as a meister, but that didn’t make things any better. Doing team resonance was bad enough, but there were enough wavelengths intermixing during team resonance to allow him some privacy in spite of the closeness it required. But pairing up with someone meant getting up close and personal with them. You looked into each other’s souls and knew each and every secret they had. Every thought, every feeling: any partner worth their salt would sense it all. It was the last thing Fushimi wanted. 

And to top it all off, his assigned partner was a complete and total idiot. 

Despite what he’d told Yata, Fushimi ended up taking a cab to the location where their targets were rumored to hang out. It was more convenient, not to mention public transportation had too many people for his liking. And while most of them would keep to themselves, one of them might try and _talk_ to him. Gross. 

They were going after a gang, one that wasn’t too bright. They’d started down the wrong path in another town, but had decided to come to Death City in order to take on Shinigami himself. Intel had it that they were nothing but half-rate scrubs who fought with ordinary weapons and won largely through force of numbers. Even a student from the non-combatant class could probably take them. It would be an easy win for Fushimi. He could be rid of that idiot skateboard with this. 

As if thinking of the other summoned him, Fushimi heard the sound of wheels as he paid his cab fare, and sure enough, he turned around to see a riderless skateboard transform into a pint-sized teenage boy. 

“Che,” Yata muttered at the same time Fushimi clicked his tongue. They both turned their faces away from each other in annoyance. 

Despite their refusal to look at each other or give any further acknowledgement of each other, they entered the building side-by-side. About three steps in, there was a trip wire; Fushimi noticed it, because only complete morons and people with death wishes would be oblivious to their surroundings, but Yata didn’t. The idiot blithely walked right into it and set it off. Fushimi clicked his tongue and dodged, pressing himself against the wall as a crossbow bolt shot through the air and embedded itself in the door behind them. He just felt fingertips brush him as he went, and noticed that Yata had also dodged, but had reached out to shove him aside as well. Considering Yata hadn’t known that some kind of attack would be coming, Fushimi had to admit he was somewhat impressed. Not everyone had the reflexes to react so quickly. It was a feat to be admired, however Fushimi still felt it was more intelligent to be aware and not have to rely on split seconds to evade attacks. 

They came across 4 more trip wires on their way into the building, and Yata set them all off. The first turned a staircase they were descending into a slide aimed at a set of spikes, the second set off a blade that slashed at where the average adult’s neck would be, the third caused the walls to begin closing in on them, and the final one triggered another two slashing blades, at mid-torso and leg level. They were easy enough to deal with. For the first, Fushimi just transformed an arm to stop his descent while Yata transformed and jumped the spikes. At the second they both ducked, though Yata didn’t really need to. For the third they both lunged forward, transforming as they did to fly through the air and escape the deadly hallways. For the last, they both used partial transformations to block the blades, with Fushimi blocking the upper blade and Yata dropping into a crouch to block the lower one (Fushimi had also transformed a leg just in case Yata hadn’t managed to block the second blade, but he had it back to normal before Yata noticed). 

All in all, it was pretty clear that at the very least, they were probably in the right place. 

At last, they reached a door that, based on the souls Fushimi could sense on the other side, had to be the entrance to the hideout. He quickly grabbed the knob before Yata could just yank it open, not wanting to be caught unprepared for the inevitable fight. Only an idiot would set traps and not be aware of when they went off. 

Speaking of idiots... 

Fushimi quick slapped his other hand over Yata’s mouth, which was already open, presumably to ask at a shout what Fushimi’s problem was, holding the door shut like that. Fushimi rolled his eyes, then leaned in close and whispered “they’re waiting for us, idiot.” 

He couldn’t help but feel a surge of pleasure at the way Yata shivered at his whispering, and it was hard not to laugh at Yata’s attempt to stare at him wide-eyed in shock but also simultaneously glare at him. He supposed that if the guy was at least entertaining, then maybe he could almost be forgiven for being such an irredeemable halfwit. 

Yata grudgingly stepped back, away from the door and out of Fushimi’s grip, and nodded, and Fushimi found himself nodding back before turning the knob and yanking the door open in one fluid motion. The hand that had been over Yata’s mouth was already transformed, ready for a fight, and as the door moved there was the flash of light that came with a transformation from Yata as the other lunged forward in skateboard form to take out anyone in his path. It was almost admirable, if not for the foolhardiness of it. Though if Yata’s behavior so far was anything to go by, he probably didn’t even realize he was being reckless. 

It was as he followed Yata through the door the Fushimi remembered that the gang they were after wasn’t known for their intelligence. In other words, they were completely unprepared for an attack, apparently unaware that their traps had been activated. Seriously? There had to be at least 50 of them, and yet Fushimi was confident that he had more brain power than all of them put together. 

Oh well, at least that made things easy. For the time being, anyway. Once they brought out their weapons things would get harder, though Fushimi knew he could definitely handle them. And he supposed maybe Yata could too, despite his own low IQ. 

Yata’s foolhardy charge put him in the lead in their challenge, taking out seven guys in one fell swoop. Or rather, one giant spinning leap. Yata transformed back as he landed, sliding along the ground before using the same tactic again. It was extremely simple, but effective in such close quarters. 

Not to be outdone, Fushimi began darting through the thugs, arms slashing at anyone within reach with deadly accuracy. Where some of the people Yata hit survived, all Fushimi struck faded down to their souls. It seemed fitting that he was a scythe, the very item associated so closely with grim reapers. Niki had certainly thought so. 

Yata had just finished his second pass when the guns came out. Fushimi wasn’t slowed very much, since he was adept at deflecting projectiles with his blades while continuing to fight, but Yata seemed to be unable to block and attack at the same time. Yata was at least good at dodging, but given that he tended to revert to human between attacks, his defense was weak. Despite Yata’s early lead in the competition the two boys had going, Fushimi easily caught up as Yata was slowed by his need to evade. 

The gang’s numbers were thinning fast, but the two boys were tiring. They were both students of Shibusen, certainly, but Yata wasn’t used to fighting solo, and Fushimi usually avoided melee combat in favor of taking out his targets using traps, ambushes, and whatever tricks were necessary to fight smarter rather than harder. 

For whatever reason, the gangsters seemed to be targeting Yata more. Perhaps it was because they, like Fushimi, had noticed Yata’s difficulties once the fighting got more intense. Or maybe it was because he’d done the most damage at the beginning of the fight, so the gangsters had incorrectly identified Yata as the greater threat. It was also possible that they were singling him out because of any number of other reasons: he was short and theoretically weaker, he was loud and therefore drew more attention to himself, his hair, his weapon form- who knew? But whatever the case, Yata was in trouble. As he finished another charge and reverted to human, there were two guns aimed at his back. Seeing this, Fushimi reacted instinctively- he may not have liked Yata, but he could hardly let a fellow student die. He didn’t want to look incompetent by failing to protect someone, after all. As the guns went off, the two bullets weren’t the only things that entered the air in that moment. Fushimi transformed completely, cutting through the air to slice the bullets, ruining their trajectory and offensive power, and then landing blade first in the ground behind Yata. He reverted back to his former state with a human body and arm blades, and stood at Yata’s back, glaring at the shooters and daring them to try again. 

“Heh, not bad!” Yata panted behind Fushimi. “That was pretty fucking awesome, Fushimi!” 

“Yeah, yeah, you can thank me after I’ve won this little bet,” Fushimi grumbled. But it actually felt kind of nice, being complimented like that. Sure, people had told him he was skilled before, but most of them were very obviously trying to flatter him or butter him up in order to be his partner. Yata on the other hand, made the compliment sound sincere. There was something in the timbre of his voice that sounded genuinely impressed, and besides, Yata was hardly buttering him up based off their earlier conversation. 

“Ah, whatever, you shithead!” Yata yelled back, making his next blitz. Fushimi also moved on, decimating their remaining enemies. He grinned as each of his strikes hit home, satisfied with his superiority. He covered for Yata two more times, once deflecting bullets and the other time slicing the offending gun in half before it could be fired. They were down to the last few gangsters when it happened: Fushimi got sloppy. 

Yata had just finished another charge, flying past Fushimi to take out two more enemies, but although both fell, only one of them dissolved. Fushimi, seeing Yata’s attack, had assumed both thugs would be neutralized and had already started seeking a new target, and was caught off guard when the surviving fallen man fired the gun and a bullet entered Fushimi’s thigh. Fushimi’s leg buckled underneath his weight, and he fell, cursing himself for his stupidity as the enemy who’d shot him finally gave up on life and dissolved. Fushimi rolled to avoid anyone who might try to attack him, and then when he thought he was safe he sat up to examine the wound. It seemed he’d been lucky- while it was bleeding steadily, it wasn’t gushing blood, so it had missed any important arteries. All the same, he didn’t think he could stand on it, let alone walk, which left him in a dangerous position in the midst of a fight. There were only a few enemies left, but that was still a few enemies who could take advantage of Fushimi’s sudden weakness and finish him off. 

“Look out!” Yata yelled, and suddenly there was a skateboard in front of Fushimi, and a bullet was ricocheting away, having been blocked by Yata. 

Fushimi was a weapon. He cut down those who had abandoned their humanity and chosen the path that led to becoming a kishin. He defended against attacks, and protected his classmates if they were fighting together. But never before had someone protected him. He’d never needed it. Even now, it was extremely unwelcome, and yet in a strange way, it was reassuring. Here was Yata, who didn’t even like him, blocking attacks for him. Yata who had complimented him wholeheartedly over such a small thing. 

When the two of them had been paired together, it had been assumed that Fushimi would act as Yata’s meister since Fushimi was both weapon and meister, and he refused to let any meister wield him. But Fushimi didn’t know how to skateboard, nor did he want to learn, and now he had a bullet in his leg so skateboarding was impossible. But what if they reversed their roles? Fushimi could still transform. He could be wielded. After his father, he’d sworn never to let anyone use him, but perhaps Yata, who expected to be the one being used and didn’t mind it, might be okay. 

“Oy,” Fushimi said, trying to get Yata’s attention. “On the count of three, change back.” 

“But then you’ll get shot!” Yata replied. Fushimi rolled his eyes, knowing it was pointless to remind Yata that a) he’d already been shot, and b) since Yata was in front of him, Yata would get shot first. 

“I have a plan idiot. But you’re in the way. When I say so, transform back, and then hold out your hand.” 

“Why?” Yata stubbornly asked. 

“Just do it. I’m going to start counting.” 

“But-” 

“One.” 

“What are you-” 

“Two.” 

“Can’t you just-” 

“Three. Now!” Fushimi shouted, already transforming. He only hoped Yata would do the same. He let his transformation carry him over Yata, and spun rapidly in front of him. If Yata held out his hand like he’d asked, then Fushimi could spin himself around it and repel any bullets that came their way. From there, the two of them would be able to fight. But that was a big if. 

“Woah, so cool!” Yata exclaimed, and Fushimi felt him reach out as instructed. Perfect. 

The guns finally stopped firing, and Fushimi let himself stop spinning and fall, expecting Yata to catch him with his other hand so that they could assume a guard stance. But unfortunately for Fushimi, Yata had no experience wielding a scythe, and so he didn’t move at all, causing Fushimi’s end to go clanging against the floor. 

“Ow! You idiot, you’re supposed to catch me!” he snapped. 

“Well you shoulda told me that you were gonna do that!” Yata snapped back. 

“Whatever,” Fushimi sighed, wishing he could knead the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Just pick me up and attack them already, moron.” 

“Right,” Yata said. However, instead of taking a proper grip, he hefted Fushimi and, before Fushimi could ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, Yata threw Fushimi across the room. 

It was a lucky throw, sending Fushimi arching through the air and slicing through the last few enemies. It was also an extremely improbable, statistically all-but-impossible throw, because the chances of it being successful were so low that it left Fushimi mildly terrified of Yata’s extreme bravery/stupidity. 

After Fushimi had clattered to the floor, (getting a headache in the process because being jarred around like that, especially when one’s body was in a form that was metal, would give anyone a headache) he transformed back and sat on the ground, massaging his temples. 

“Wow, I can’t believe that worked!” Yata exclaimed, and Fushimi snorted. _Yata_ couldn’t believe that had worked? How the hell did he think Fushimi felt? Yata came jogging over and offered Fushimi a hand. “You okay, Fushimi?” 

“I got shot in the leg and can’t stand right now, so I’ll stay seated if it’s all the same to you,” Fushimi said. 

“That’s okay, I can carry you back,” Yata offered. 

“How about no.” 

“Yeesh, I’m just tryin’ to be nice,” Yata grumbled, finally straightening. He looked around at all the kishin eggs from the fallen gangsters. “So uh, by the way, who won? I kinda lost count there, so how are we supposed to determine a winner to our bet?” 

Fushimi had kept count, and he was pretty sure he’d won, but for some reason, he didn’t feel like saying that. 

“Well what about the last few?” he asked instead. “We worked together on those, so do they count as yours or mine?” 

“Huh, good question,” Yata said. He pondered for a bit. 

“Whatever, the bet doesn’t even matter anyway,” Fushimi said. 

“What?” Yata squawked. “But you said-” 

“The bet was that if you won, we’d be partners, and if I won, I could continue to work solo if I wanted. And since I’ve decided that I don’t mind being partnered with you, then either way, the outcome is the same. So the bet doesn’t matter.” 

“Wait, so you’ll be my meister then?” Yata asked. 

“Did you miss the part where I can’t fucking stand? How am I gonna be your meister, idiot?” 

“But-” 

“I said I’ll be your partner,” Fushimi explained. “We’re both weapons, either one of us can act as the meister. It could be useful for you in the future, so you can keep fighting even if your meister is down instead of throwing yourself around like you were earlier.” 

“Hey! I took out plenty of guys that way, so you can shut up!” Yata argued. 

“Only because our enemies were idiots who practically lined up to be mowed down. They did half the work for you.” 

“Ugh!” Yata growled. “Do I seriously have to work with you from now on?” 

“You’re the one who wanted this,” Fushimi said, smirking. 

“Okay fine, whatever,” Yata huffed. “I’ll be your meister instead. Happy?” 

“Great. When we get back to the school, you can start by learning to spin a broom. That’s scythe basics. After that… We might need to get someone to give you remedial lessons since you clearly don’t know how to hold a weapon at all. At least you’ve got a good physique for a weapon.” 

“Remedial-” Yata gasped, outraged. “You know what? Nevermind. I’m just gonna ignore all your insults. And what do you mean ‘for a weapon’? My fitness test scores are higher than most of the meisters, too!” 

“Oh, what’s this?” Fushimi teased. “You actually know what ‘physique’ means, Mr. 6%?” 

“Shut up and let’s go back already!” Yata snapped. He paused, then added, “How _are_ we getting back, by the way? If you’re not letting me carry you?” 

“If I’m in weapon form you can go ahead and carry me. But you better not let my ends or blade drag, or I will fucking stab you.” 

“God, you’re so picky.” 

“Get used to it, we’re partners now.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Smiling, Fushimi transformed back into his scythe form and waited as Yata bent over and picked him up. It took a bit of directing on his part and complaining on Yata’s part for them both to get comfortable, but they finally managed. Fushimi still didn’t like the idea of being used by someone. But, just a little bit, he was actually looking forward to having a partner for the time being. 

* * *

Munakata’s first practice with Suoh Mikoto had, depending on how you looked at it, gone wonderfully, or gone horribly. They certainly hadn’t gotten in any fighting practice, and Suoh hadn’t even transformed at all, but the expressions of physical attraction via lip contact had been most enjoyable. Unfortunately, such expressions were not effective battle tactics, and they could not succeed as agents of Shibusen that way. Therefore, Munakata was determined to hold another practice session, this time without getting distracted by their hormones and mutual interest in each other. 

Of course, a practice session was only possible if he could track his new partner down. 

When it came to soul perception, Munakata’s abilities were unparalleled, but his was a niche talent. He excelled at reading decision-making tendencies in one’s wavelength; if you were to ask him how to provoke someone into a fight, or how they would react if you gave them an exploding pie, he could tell you. But that was all he could read in their wavelength. And since motivations are constantly changing, it made it nearly impossible for him to pinpoint a specific soul. Yes, he could sense souls in a broader range than most, and he could tell you how they were likely to move, but if he wanted to find one among the many? That was not his area of expertise. 

Munakata had been systematically searching the school for almost four hours now, and had yet to find Suoh. He had run into various classmates practicing with their new partners and had chanced upon Awashima-kun as she made her way to the library, but no one he came across could tell him where Suoh might be found. At this rate, they were never going to get any training in. 

Still, failure was not something that Munakata Reisi ever acknowledged, and so he relentlessly continued his search. He was just getting ready to head down into the endless corridors of the underbelly of the school, where numerous students got lost every year, when he ran into Kusuhara and Kushina Anna. 

Kushina was, of course, something of a legend. She could match wavelengths with almost anyone, she could read one’s deepest, darkest secrets in their wavelength, and of course, she had chosen to pair up with Suoh Mikoto, who had been somewhat infamous for his solitary personality. 

Not that Munakata wasn’t legendary himself, for his own perception abilities and choice of partner, as well as his enigmatic nature and overwhelming skill as a meister. 

After greetings were exchanged, Munakata asked, as he had so many times already that day, if the two of them had seen Suoh. 

“Well, we haven’t _seen_ him,” Kusuhara said, scratching his head. 

“But…?” Munakata pressed, because Kusuhara was an open book and his manner made it clear that there was more to be said on the matter. 

“Mikoto is on top of the school,” Kushina said. 

“Is that so?” Munakata asked, but deep inside he couldn’t help but to wonder what the hell sent a guy up to the roof of a school like Shibusen. 

Kushina nodded. 

“Munakata-san, is everything alright?” Kusuhara asked. “Only, you look kinda stressed, and you’re never stressed, and it made me wonder if maybe yesterday didn’t go so well for you, but you seemed to be in a good mood after you and Suoh went to practice so I thought-” 

That was the problem with Kusuhara. He didn’t have a very good filter, so if you let him talk he would say too much too honestly. It generally amused Munakata, but at times like this it was almost painful. 

“I suppose you could say I am finding Suoh to be a bit troublesome,” Munakata said, which was about as close as he would ever get to admitting he was maybe in over his head. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Kusuhara said. “I suppose a rocket-launcher is a bit different from any of my forms, huh? Even someone as adaptable as you might have difficulty adjusting to wielding such an unusual weapon.” 

Before Munakata could reply, Kushina spoke up, startling both boys. 

“Mikoto is not meant to be wielded.” 

Silence met her words. They were just too absurd to respond to so easily. 

“Um, excuse me,” Kusuhara finally said, “but what exactly do you mean? Is this because he used to be solo, or-” 

“Mikoto does need a meister,” Kushina replied. “But not to wield him.” She turned to Munakata, her eyes piercing him. “Reisi, what he needs is someone who will hold him back and keep him from losing control. Show him that you can be his voice of reason.” 

Normally, Munakata would have responded with “of course”, but when it came to Suoh… Yesterday had proven that Munakata wasn’t the most reasonable when Suoh was around. They’d thrown caution to the wind together, and while Munakata intended to do a better job keeping his composure from now on, he could not guarantee it. 

“You can still be what he needs even if you choose to be impulsive sometimes,” Kushina said, taking one of Munakata’s hands in both her own. Munakata’s perpetual smile wavered for a split second, and he raised his eyebrows, surprised at someone reading him so easily when everyone told him he was unfathomable. Still, that was Kushina’s ability for you. 

“The chaos in order and order in chaos, huh?” Munakata mused, remembering Kushina’s words from the day before. Kushina nodded, the smallest of smiles on her face at his understanding. “I see. I will try to keep that in mind. Now you said Suoh can be found on the roof?” 

Kushina nodded once in confirmation. Munakata nodded his thanks, and headed off on his way, waving to acknowledge the call of “good luck!” Kusuhara sent after him. He would need that luck, as well as every bit of patience he could muster, to deal with this newfound challenge. 

It took a few tries for Munakata to find a route that would take him to the roof. Shibusen was not designed for people to be heading up there. After all, it didn’t exactly snow in the desert climate Death City was in, so it wasn’t like there was ever any need to go up there and shovel or anything. Sure, people made it up there every now and then- there was the infamous incident involving Shinigami’s son and another student, Black Star, and there was the time when the witch Medusa and some other witches had sealed off part of the school to release the Kishin Ashura, but witches had magic and Death the Kid had godly heritage and Black Star was just insane, so people being on the roof was abnormal. 

Except apparently, if your name was Suoh Mikoto, in which case the roof was apparently where you went to nap. 

When Munakata finally found Suoh, the redhead was sprawled out in the sun like a lazy reptile soaking up heat, his eyes closed and his expression peaceful. Suoh didn’t show any reactions as Munakata approached, but the meister was sure the weapon sensed his approach. 

“You know, most people go to the infirmary when they choose to take a nap at school,” he informed Suoh offhandedly as he knelt next to the redhead, making himself comfortable. 

Suoh’s face twisted into a scowl, but his eyes remained closed. 

“If you’re here to bore me, then shoo,” he grumbled. “I can fall asleep jus’ fine without your yammerin’ in my ears.” 

“I’m here to remind you that we need to get in some actual practice if we are to continue functioning as agents of Shibusen,” Munakata replied. “As your meister, I need to get a feel for you. How much kickback you have, what your range is, how much damage I can expect to do, what’s your reload time-” 

“How good a kisser am I?” Suoh interrupted, a small smirk replacing his scowl. His eyes finally opened as he tilted his head towards Munakata. 

“Important information, certainly, but today we need to focus on more practical matters,” Munakata replied calmly, a wry smile twisting his mouth as he met Suoh’s gaze. 

“Spoilsport,” Suoh replied, but he sat up and held an arm out in Munakata’s direction, closing his eyes again as he smiled contentedly. Munakata examined the extended limb, trying to calculate it’s expectation. Perhaps Suoh wanted to take part in some contemporary show of solidarity, such as perhaps a high five or fist bump or even a “bro hug”. He apparently took too long to decide what it was for, however, as Suoh’s eyes opened and cut in Munakata’s direction as an annoyed look passed over his face. “I thought you said you wanted to practice,” Suoh complained. “Hurry up and take it already if that’s what you want.” 

Munakata obeyed, and the moment their hands had clamped together, Suoh transformed, and Munakata had to hurry and bring his other hand up to help support the newfound weight of the rocket launcher. 

“Is this really the place for us to be practicing?” he asked chidingly, although he found himself smiling in amusement. 

“You never specified,” Suoh replied petulantly. “‘Sides, up here there’s nothing to get in the way ‘n I’ll have better range.” 

A reckless thrill surged through Munakata, perhaps as a result of his connection to the weapon in his hands, or perhaps from some destructive aspect of himself that he had tried to suppress up until now. Either way, he found himself getting to his feet and hefting the weapon, a twinkle in his eye. 

“Then let’s try it out, shall we?” he said. He could almost feel Suoh’s smirk as he aimed for the desert and fired. 

It was almost an hour later when Yatogami-sensei finished lecturing them. They had successfully hit the distant sands, and no damage had been done, but according to their teacher they had still alarmed a great many people who had seen the missile flying over head and had assumed something big was going on again. A few had even mistaken the rocket for a witch. 

Despite the exhausting lecture they’d been forced to endure and the forms they’d had to sign promising that all their future practice sessions would take place outside the city limits, and the detention they’d been assigned, they got no further than a dozen paces from the teacher’s office before Munakata found himself making eye contact with Suoh and saying, “Worth it.” 

As Suoh brayed in laughter, Munakata couldn’t help but grin. Suoh was bringing out a side to himself that he’d never even known existed, and while it frightened him and irritated him, he couldn’t bring himself to resent it at all. 

* * *

Kusanagi wasn’t really surprised that Awashima was dissatisfied with their partnership. He’d felt her unease, bordering on fear, through the meister/weapon connection as they’d practiced the previous day. If practicing was what you could call what had happened. He’d tried to warn her, tried to talk her through the motions she should use to best wield him, but he could tell from the start that it was a futile endeavor: there was a certain amount of bias to Awashima that made her deaf to his words. 

Perhaps saying she’d been deaf to him was going a bit far. But she had been unwilling to properly consider his words, having already decided in some part of her that they wouldn’t be able to work together. He supposed it would be a bit difficult, going from fighting with a sword and shield to using a flamethrower. But some of the others also had vastly different weapons all of a sudden, and they were making it work, not seeking out Ex-freaking-calibur. 

And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Awashima had decided to go meet Excalibur, and he was getting dragged along with her. 

Kusanagi prided himself in collecting rumors and information; he knew all the ins and outs of Shibusen above all others. You wanted to know Shinigami’s hat size? No problem. Who was the first death scythe? He could tell you. If your crush was a student, and you wanted to know his/her favorite flavor of popsicle, you went and asked Kusanagi. Given his general knowledge of all things Shibusen, past and present, of course Kusanagi had heard of Excalibur. 

And he’d also heard what people thought of the sacred sword. 

One word: Annoying. 

He’d read witness accounts of those who had seen their fellow students attempt to wield Excalibur- the actual meisters who’d attempted it refused to speak of the sacred sword themselves, but according to witnesses, Excalibur harassed his would-have-been meisters with flower arrangements and giant posters and other unwelcome public pleas to partner up. He’d also read of one meister who had briefly succeeded in a partnership with Excalibur, and had terrorized the school before the sword’s sneezes had brought the meister to end things. What with all he’d heard, Kusanagi was of the opinion that he was very lucky that he was a weapon and would never have reason to seek Excalibur out. 

Only now he was partnered with a meister who intended to do just that, and expected him to come along for the ride. Fuck his life. 

In all honesty, Kusanagi had somewhat hoped that they would get waylaid before they were able to reach the sacred sword’s dwelling. He wouldn’t have minded getting caught in the middle of a riot, or having to stop a serial killer, or even being forced to face Melissa all on his own, if it meant he didn’t have to proceed with this odious task that had been handed to him. Unfortunately for him, the journey was indeed an easy one, probably due to the fact that no one wanted to be anywhere near Excalibur’s lair. 

Thanks to Awashima’s efficient nature, they made good time. All too soon they were scaling a cliff face, and then wading through the knee-deep waters at the top. A small part of Kusanagi still held out hope that they’d gone in the wrong direction, that someone else lived in the cave they were now entering, that the sacred sword had, in fact, died long ago and so they wouldn’t find him regardless of how thoroughly they searched. The more pragmatic side of him realized that this was the legendary weapon they were talking about, who was so annoying that he would live forever just to deny everyone the satisfaction of reading his obituary, and that such hopes were almost certainly in vain. Still, maybe the sacred sword wasn’t as bad as the rumors claimed? Rumors did sometimes exaggerate, after all. 

The two were silent as they trekked through the cave; Awashima in eager anticipation, and Kusanagi in dread. Water dripped down on them from the stalactites hanging from the ceiling of the cave, only adding to Kusanagi’s unhappiness- as a weapon that used flames, he was not overly fond of water. 

Just when the sloshing sound created by their wading was beginning to drive him nuts, a small island came into view. There was no doubt that this was the dwelling of the sacred sword, the infamous “stone” the sword had to be pulled from. Or so one could assume based on the sword that was situated point-first into the center of the island with rays of light shining down upon it. 

“Excalibur,” Awashima breathed reverently. Kusanagi, on the other hand, felt more like crying. Or screaming and running away. Or being sick. Any of the three, really, or all of them even. He wasn’t picky. 

The two of them stood frozen, Awashima basking in the glory she perceived and Kusanagi paralyzed by his unease. They remained there, staring at the sword, for a long moment, but then that moment ended and they drifted forward, only realizing they’d left the water behind when their steps no longer involved splashing. As they reached the sword, Awashima tentatively reached out and took hold of the hilt, lifting it clear of the ground. She inhaled sharply in shock as the sword came loose. She’d done it. 

Kusanagi, meanwhile, was bracing himself for what was yet to come. Or at least trying to, because nothing could have prepared him for the being that appeared when the sword suddenly transformed. 

The being was completely white. Its hands and feet were shaped more like paws, and its head was almost triangular, sporting only a long, upturned, pointy nose, and large round eyes. It was also very short, only about waist height to Awashima, although it’s ridiculously tall top hat added to its height. It also wore a fancy jacket with a frilled collar that looked like it belonged on a circus performer, and no pants. The ensemble was completed by a cane. 

Strangely enough, none of the rumors Kusanagi had heard mentioned Excalibur’s appearance beyond saying that it looked “super lame”. Somehow, that description failed to do the actuality justice. Kusanagi had to cough to keep from laughing. 

“Fool!” the being exclaimed, and the voice sounded male. It was a word that had been quoted several times among things that Kusanagi had heard about the sacred sword. This was definitely Excalibur then. 

“I… I beg your pardon?” Awashima asked, torn between affronted and confused. “You are the legendary sacred sword Excalibur, are you n-” 

“Fool!” Excalibur repeated, cutting her off. 

“My sincerest apologies,” Awashima said, looking stricken. “I realize I am hardly a suitable meister for one so esteemed as yourself, but-” 

“Fool!” Excalibur said yet again. 

“I… I’m sorry?” Awashima said, her uncertainty growing. 

Kusanagi shook his head. This poor girl was in over her head. Perhaps he should have warned her about what he’d heard? Then again, with the way Awashima was, would she have even heeded his warnings? 

“What is your favorite day of the week?” Excalibur asked abruptly. 

“What? Um, I think it’s probably Tuesday, because it’s not as tiring as Monday but the week is still young so there’s still plenty of time to be producti-” 

“Fool!” Excalibur interrupted, then pointed his cane expectantly at Kusanagi. 

“I’m staying out of this,” Kusanagi said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m a weapon.” 

“Fool!” Excalibur exclaimed, and turned to walk away from them. 

“Somehow I was expecting that,” Kusanagi muttered under his breath. Excalibur pivoted. 

“Fool!” the sword repeated. “My legend begins on a Sunday. It was definitely a Sunday, unless it was a Saturday, but perhaps it was a Wednesday instead. Yes, it could have been a Wednesday, except it was the day after Monday, but no, I’m sure it was a Friday that felt like a Thursday instead. Thus my legend began on a Sunday!” 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand…” Awashima said slowly. There was still more confusion on her face than anything else, but it looked like the light was beginning to dawn on her. 

“My tea must be Earl Grey,” Excalibur said. “Assam and Darjeeling are also fine, but only if they are English blends, but Irish Breakfast tea is the only acceptable tea in the evening, and that is why I only drink coffee.” 

“Then- then why were you talking about tea just now?” Awashima asked. 

“I’m pretty sure he just says whatever he feels like,” Kusanagi said back in an undertone. 

“Fool!” Excalibur exclaimed. “One must always bathe with a rubber duck, but the rubber duck cannot be yellow, it has to be pink. Pink is a hideous color, and cannot be abided by, therefore one should not own any pink items and should make sure they have a yellow rubber duck.” 

“Um, Excalibur, sir?” Awashima said, hesitantly raising her hand like she was asking a question in class. “I think you just contradicted yourself.” 

“He’s been contradicting himself for a while now,” Kusanagi replied. “Since the 12th century, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Fool!” Excalibur cried. “My legend begins in the 12th century. And that is why we must have a song and dance number!” 

“If he actually sings I am burning this fucking cave to the ground,” Kusanagi muttered. 

“But first, it is time for my five hour recitation session!” Excalibur said. 

“F-five hours?” Awashima asked, horrified. 

“Yeah, let’s nix that one too,” Kusanagi replied. There were flames at the ends of his fingertips as he tried to stay calm at the thought of five straight hours of this guy. 

“Fool! There are 1,000 provisions my meisters must follow, and the five hour recitation session is one of the most important!” Excalibur said haughtily, planting his cane in the ground in front of him. 

“I’m not so sure I want to be your meister after all,” Awashima said hesitantly. “I don’t think I’m really worthy of such an honor, and-” 

“Fool! One only wears flannel pajamas in the summertime. If you wear them in any other season it will be too hot.” 

“That’s completely irrelevant, and also, I would appreciate it if you’d stop interrupting me when I’m tal-” 

“Fool! Oranges taste better than apples.” 

“That’s lovely, but-” 

“Fool! I cannot stand the taste of citrus fruits, so you must only serve me apples, but they must be cut in the shape of rabbits!” 

“Unbelievable!” Awashima cried, finally losing her temper. She threw her hands in the air in frustration. 

“Fool!” Excalibur replied, as always. 

“You know, we could just leave,” Kusanagi pointed out. “Rumor has it that he won’t follow. Though he might try and send you fan mail.” 

“Whatever, I’m sick of this bullshit. Let’s get out of here,” Awashima snarled. 

“Fine by me,” Kusanagi agreed lightly. 

“Fool!” Excalibur continued on as the two turned to go. “Cherries are far superior to apples or oranges, but only if you can tie the stem in a knot with your tongue, otherwise strawberries are-” Excalibur apparently had only just noticed them leaving, as he suddenly stopped mid-tirade to cry out, “Wait! Come back! We haven’t finalized our partnership yet! And I still need to tell you about the proper way to drink champagne!” 

“We’re underage!” Awashima snapped over her shoulder, then began wading faster in order to get away from the sword. Kusanagi was all too happy to follow her. They ignored the sword's pleas as they got farther and farther away, until finally Excalibur could no longer be heard. 

“Good riddance,” Awashima muttered angrily. 

“Amen to that,” Kusanagi sighed. “I’d heard a bit about what he was like, but even what I'd heard was nowhere near sufficient warning for _that_. He was way worse than I expected.” 

“Wait, you knew he was…” Awashima trailed off, uncertain how to finish the question. 

“A pain in the ass?” Kusanagi suggested. 

“Yes. That,” Awashima spat, her anger overcoming her again. 

“Like I said, I’d heard a few things.” 

“And you didn’t warn me?” 

“I also heard that finding out just how terrible Excalibur is is considered something of a right of passage among meisters,” Kusanagi replied. “Besides, there’s no way to warn anyone about what we just experienced, is there?” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Awashima sighed. “And even if you had warned me I might not have listened. I apologize for that. It seems I am still severely lacking. If you don’t mind, I’d like to resume our temporary partnership in order to work towards making up for my shortcomings.” 

“Sure thing,” Kusanagi agreed. “I’m a much better fighter when I have a meister to work with.” 

“Thank you,” Awashima said, and smiled at him. She hesitated a moment, looking like she wanted to say more, then added, “And also I would greatly appreciate it if we could pretend this whole incident never happened. I behaved a bit shamefully back there, and also… if I ever so much as _think_ of the stupid sword again, it will be too soon.” 

“You got it,” Kusanagi agreed. “My lips are sealed.”


	4. Battles and their Aftermath

The students were given a week to acclimate themselves to their new partners before they were sorted into teams for the final battle. Because Willa and Melissa had different fighting styles- Willa specialized in physical combat, while Melissa tended to rely on her magic- a total of four teams were assigned, each with a different purpose. They were given another two weeks to get used to fighting as a unit despite the inability to use team resonance, and then it was time to attack. They were finally going to fight Melissa. 

However, not everyone was happy with their roles in the imminent battle. 

“Man, how come we’re not part of team 1?” Yata whined. “Team 1 has all the strongest fighters, but we got stuck here in team 2. It’s not fair.” 

“For the last time, the teams were arranged based on weapon capabilities,” Fushimi countered dully. They’d had this discussion before, about two or three times each day since the teams had been announced. “The weapons in team 1 all have the potential for widespread destruction, and will be responsible for taking out Melissa’s hives. We can’t risk getting stung by her wasps again. Meanwhile, you and I are needed on the front line, because we can move quickly and help prevent Melissa from casting any spells. Wouldn’t you rather be where the action is than taking out some hives?” 

“Che, I just don’t like being called second-best. If it’s you ‘n me, we can take on anybody,” Yata replied. “If it’s us, we could even take on the whole world.” 

Before Fushimi could reply, a dull booming sound was heard, and a moment later they began to see smoke. Team 1 had begun their attack on the hives, which meant the witches would be heading their way. 

“That’s the signal. Hurry up and transform,” Fushimi said. With a sigh, Yata stretched, before complying and transforming into a skateboard. Fushimi stepped on with one foot, keeping the other firmly on the ground as they waited. Sure enough, a few seconds later, two witches came into view, flying low to the ground on their broomsticks as they headed to protect the hives. Perfect. 

It was the same maze of canyons where Yata and Kamamoto- as well as many of their classmates- had fallen prey to Melissa’s poison, just a few weeks prior. It was also where the witches had been hiding, evading Shibusen’s agents in the twisting turns of the canyons, and it was also a perfect place to ambush the witches, boxing them in with no means of escape. 

Once the witches drew level with their vantage point, Fushimi kicked off, and Yata took them down the canyon walls to land behind the witches, cutting off any retreat. Ahead of them, the other members of their team appeared, Eric and Enomoto already transformed, as did the third team in their plan, comprising of meisters wielding the sturdiest weapons among their classes. The third team would be facing off against Willa, and would need the more physical aspects of Hidaka’s axe form, Bandou’s bat form, and Benzai’s saber form to defend against Willa’s brute strength. As the witches dismounted their brooms, preparing for the imminent fight, the fourth team- who would be backing up the second and third teams- could be seen moving into position as well. It was time to fight. 

With Fushimi and Yata cutting off the retreat, Kamou and Eric made the next move, which was to use Eric’s chain form to create a barrier between the witches, separating them. The plan relied on battling the witches individually- together their differing styles of attack could be devastating- and so with a flick of his wrist, Kamou wrapped Eric around Melissa and threw the witch to the side, allowing Totsuka to dart in and attack with Enomoto. At the same time, Fujishima from the support team dashed in and used Akiyama to boost Akagi so that he could take a flying leap over Willa so that he and Hidaka were ready to keep the gap between the two witches. As Fujishima retreated, Gotou and Chitose also moved to attack Willa. 

Despite their expectations, Melissa did not try to cast any spells. As Totsuka made the initial attack following her landing, Fushimi executed a kick flip attack that had taken an embarrassing amount of hours for him to learn, even with Yata’s help controlling the move. The skateboard spun into the witch, slicing a deep gash near her hip, before spinning back and allowing Fushimi to land without eating dirt. However, the meister’s feet had barely reconnected with the weapon when an unexpected whip wrapped around one ankle and yanked, tugging him into a much rougher landing than planned. Without the weight of a meister on him, Yata shot forward, drawing dangerously near where Willa was shoving Gotou back with one arm and lazily blocking a heavy strike from Akagi with the other. He rebounded, returning to his fight just in time to see Totsuka sidestepping a second whip and Kamou attempting a counterattack while Fushimi struggled to his feet from where he’d landed. Melissa giggled sinisterly, a smug smirk on her face. 

“Watch out, I think those whips have stingers,” Kamou called as a whip snapped against Eric, preventing their counterattack. Yata growled, because of course the stupid whips had stingers, why wouldn’t a wasp witch have fucking whips with fucking stingers on the ends? He rolled over to his fallen meister, who was adjusting his glasses. Once at Fushimi’s side, he transformed. It was risky in the heart of a battle, but it was a lot easier to check on his meister in human form. Plus, who knew, maybe Fushimi would stumble and need to be caught and it would be almost like a hug and what the fuck, this really wasn’t time for such thoughts. 

“Good thing you did end up learning to skateboard after all,” Yata joked. “At least now you know how to fall, having taken worse ones than that during practice, right?” 

“Shut up,” Fushimi grumbled back. “That was my bad leg she grabbed, it fucking hurt.” 

“Oh,” Yata said, glancing down to check if the wound had reopened. It had gotten a fair amount of time to heal before Yata had started teaching his partner how to skateboard, but they had been warned that too much stress would only cause problems. “But you’re still good, right? I mean, we still have our trump card, after all.” 

Fushimi nodded. 

“If you two are done schmoozing, would you mind helping us out here?” Kamou yelped. Back in the heat of things, he and Totsuka were both struggling against Melissa, with only some choice shots fired by Kamamoto keeping the witch at bay. 

“Yeesh, being partnered with Eric is really starting to rub off on that guy,” Yata muttered, but he obediently transformed, and Fushimi gingerly stepped on. “You ready?” 

“Just as long as you don’t do anything fancy, because I _will_ stab you,” Fushimi replied. 

“We just need to charge her and get within reach, that’s hardly anything fancy,” Yata replied. 

“Says you,” Fushimi muttered, and kicked off, his eyes narrowing to slits as he concentrated on shifting his weight the right ways at the right times. Skateboarding really was difficult, and while this whole partnership thing had grown on him, he would be glad of the day he never had to do it again. 

One of the whips sliced towards them as they sped towards the witch, trying to slip inside her guard, but it was blocked, this time by Dewa whizzing through the air. The boomerang arced as it rebounded, slicing clean through the second whip before it could slash at Kamou. The witch seemed unperturbed by the loss of her weapon however. In fact, she simply reached up and pulled at her clothes, pulling a fresh whip from the garments she wore. 

“Wait, where was she hiding that?” Yata yelped. 

“Many witches can manipulate their clothes. She wasn’t hiding it, she was wearing it,” Fushimi mumbled as they approached the witch. 

“Wait, you mean that was-!” 

“Shut up and switch, virgin!” Fushimi interrupted, already lunging off the board and transforming. Yata followed suit, landing on his feet and catching his partner to slash the scythe viciously at the witch. Melissa danced back, a look of shock on her face. The look didn’t last long however, and she abruptly made an X shape with her arms, swiping the whips inward. Only a quick leap kept Yata from being slicing in half by the whips. He and Fushimi switched again, and their attack pattern continued, using Yata’s skateboard form to get in close and Fushimi’s scythe form to attack once they’d reached the witch. 

Over in the battle against Willa, things were not going well. Willa’s attacks were even stronger than the students had anticipated, making them hard to block. Fujishima, who had been assigned to the backup team since Akiyama worked best as a weapon when thrown, had entered the fray as well, using the shield’s defensive capabilities to help protect the students fighting the bear witch from her overwhelming power. Even so, the team fighting Willa was losing ground. 

And then, as if they weren’t struggling enough, Totsuka got hit by the barbs at the end of one of Melissa’s whips. The whip had been coursing towards Kamou, and then deflected by a shot from Kamamoto and Doumyouji, but it seemed Melissa had planned for that as she’d simply flicked the whip and it had lashed out, jabbing past Enomoto’s spinning form to pierce Totsuka’s chest, causing the meister to drop. Even before Totsuka hit the ground the whip was already on the move again, not allowing either of the other teammates to check on their fallen comrade. 

As Kamou and Fushimi/Yata frantically dodged Melissa’s whips, which seemed to have increased the intensity of their attacks, Enomoto reverted back to human form to check his meister’s pulse. Totsuka was still breathing, and seemed to be conscious, but he was paralyzed and unable to move. 

“Tatara’s alive but I need to get him out of here!” he yelled above the noise. “Can you hold her off on your own?” 

“Heh, who do you think you’re talking to?” Yata replied as he and Fushimi switched roles yet again, Yata becoming the meister to block Melissa’s attacks with wide one-armed sweeps of the scythe. 

“Idiot, you’re wide open!” Fushimi snapped. 

“It’s fine. Kamamoto has us covered. And if he doesn’t then I’ll kick his fat ass!” 

While the pair bickered, Melissa concentrated her attacks on them. They kept fighting regardless- both her and each other- allowing Kamou to slip into Melissa’s blind spot. From there, he sent Eric swishing forward, looping the chain around the witch and pinning her arms to her sides. The witch struggled, and Enomoto hoisted Totsuka up and began dragging him towards a nearby fissure where he’d be safe from the ongoing battles. Yata, sensing weakness, lunged forward, scythe ready to make the final blow. 

Two things happened in an instant: having suffered a particularly harsh blow from Willa, Akagi was thrown backwards into Yata, knocking him off course. At the same time, Melissa casually flicked her wrists, and both whips drove backwards towards Kamou. Kamou frantically dove aside, but Eric was dislodged in the process, and Melissa could move freely again. 

It was just about the worst case scenario. They had a man down, and the two battles were merging into one. They’d completely lost control. 

In another time, they might have retreated, but they didn’t have the option of retreating here. They had to win this battle. The last time a witch had escaped Shibusen, she had gone on to spend 800 years amassing an army to fight Shibusen, and had even teamed up with the Kishin Ashura. If they didn’t want another Arachne, they needed to stop Melissa and Willa here and now. 

As Yata and Akagi both struggled to regain their feet, Willa broke past Chitose, Gotou, and Fujishima, and came charging towards the two and their weapons. Neither of them noticed, but Fushimi did, and he despaired knowing there was nothing he could do to get his partner to react in time. Even if he screamed now, Willa was approaching too fast. Still, he couldn’t suppress the cry. 

“Misaki!” 

Had Yata somehow reacted and blocked Willa, Fushimi probably would have spent the rest of his life mortally embarrassed at having gotten so emotional in front of people. As it was, he was spared the humiliation since his shout was drowned out by a sudden tremendous gust of wind, one so powerful that Willa was knocked backwards with such violence that she crashed into one of the canyon walls, setting off a small rockslide. Melissa, seeing her ally in trouble, screeched in anger and threw her arms up, and there was no doubt that she would thrust them downward and cause her whips to snap out and do heavy damage to anything they hit. However, she never got past raising her arms, as a gout of flame sent her dancing sideways and singed the whips in her hands to a crisp. As she discarded the disintegrating whips, she pulled two fresh ones from her outfit, her eyes seeking her new assailant. She wasn’t the only one looking to see who the new reinforcements were. 

The first person they spotted was Munakata, standing up at the edge of the canyon walls, Mikoto’s rocket launcher form propped against the ground beside him as he posed majestically, the hand not supporting Mikoto resting on his hip as he emulated a certain rum mascot. Next they spotted Anna, using Kusuhara’s fan form to slowly drift to the ground. Last, just beyond the fissure where Enomoto was tending to Totsuka, Awashima could be seen, marching calmly forward, her face as impassive as ever. 

“Oya, mind if we cut in?” Munakata asked. He was the only one who bothered asking, however, as Awashima was already firing off another blast of flames that sent Melissa skittering aside, and Takeru had switched to his chakram form for Anna to send flying after the wasp witch, slicing deep into her left shoulder. 

“Che, we coulda handled it,” Yata grumbled. 

“Personally, I’m fine with not getting half-killed in the process of beating them,” Fushimi replied, though he at least knew enough not to point out that they’d been getting their asses handed to them and did, in fact, need the extra help. 

Having pushed back the witches, the teams regrouped, with Munakata jumping down to join the team fighting Willa and Awashima and Anna coming to join the fight against Melissa. 

“Are you already done with the hives?” Kamou asked. 

“Flames spread fast when they’re fanned,” Awashima replied, the slightest of smirks just perceptible on her face. 

Neither battle lasted much longer. As soon as Willa exhumed herself from the rubble created by the force of her fall, the team that was fighting her was on her, with Munakata matching the strength of each of her blows. With him there to turn the tide, the bear witch was soon fighting solely on the defensive, and it wasn’t long before Munakata was able to launch a rocket and finish her off. 

Meanwhile, Melissa was forced to keep dodging to avoid the flames generated by Kusanagi. Awashima kept unleashing the flamethrower’s assaults with relentless fury, only stemming the flames in order to allow her teammates to move in for the attack. Melissa tried to take to her broom and flee, but Anna used Kusuhara’s grappling hook form to yank the witch back down, and then Kusuhara switched to his naginata form so that Anna and Yata could mount a combined assault to keep the witch from attacking again, using fast swipes of the scythe and naginata to force the witch to block. Once again, Kamou lassoed Melissa with his weapon, and Awashima struck the final blow by creating an inferno that left no trace of the witch. 

For a moment, everyone stood around, waiting for a surprise attack. But there was nothing. The air in the canyons was still save for the wind wailing as it crossed over them. All that was left were two purple souls, pulsing faintly as they flickered in death. They had done it. They’d won. 

* * *

Kamamoto was surprised when Yata didn’t mow him down the moment they got back to Shibusen, ready to resume their partnership. He knew that Yata hadn’t wanted another partner, that Yata had always thought of the Class Scepter 4 students as a bunch of “stuck-up prissy snobs” (or perhaps he’d said pretty, but no, prissy surely made more sense), and he’d heard that Yata had been very vocal about his objections to his partner since day 1- although he’d missed hearing the complaints himself since he’d been rather busy with his own temporary new partner, Doumyouji. 

Keeping what Yata was like in mind, Kamamoto had been on edge since their return to the school, expecting to get tackled at any moment. And yet here it was, almost noon the next day, and Kamamoto hadn’t even seen his usual weapon despite the fact that they shared an apartment. Just what was going on? 

When he’d managed to have lunch without getting jumped, Kamamoto knew it was time he sought Yata out himself. As always, the skateboard wasn’t hard to find: he was a creature of habit, and never strayed too far from certain set routines. Today, he was at the skate park down in Death City. But where normally Yata would be balanced on an ordinary skateboard, grinding on rails or doing tricks off the ramps, today he was simply sitting on a bench at the side of the park, his wheeled wooden plank at his side as he stared dazedly off into the sky. 

When Kamamoto first approached Yata, he called out a greeting and was ignored. He tried again, louder, to no avail. He even came up and shouted in Yata’s ear, and waved a hand in front of Yata’s eyes, but got no reaction. In desperation, he even picked up Yata’s board, which usually caused the shorter boy to go ballistic. Nothing. 

“He’s been like that all day,” one of the other skateboarders called across the park. “It’s kinda freaky.” 

Freaky was a good way of describing it. Unnerved, Kamamoto took the board into the park, wanting to be there when Yata snapped out of whatever but not wanting to wait with nothing to do, and definitely not wanting to stay next this strange version of his friend. 

Kamamoto started off easy, just coasting around the park, not really doing anything. As he gained confidence, he started steering towards the railings, jumping them, and pulling small ollies off the ramps. “Baby stuff” Yata would call it. Finally, feeling warmed up, Kamamoto tried to do a trick Yata had shown him once off one of the ramps. 

When Kamamoto stopped tumbling, he found himself at Yata’s feet, looking up at his friend as the skater looked back. 

“Wow, just a few weeks without me and you’re already almost as bad as Saru,” Yata said dully. 

“Yata-san!” Kamamoto cried, pushing himself upright. “You had me worried! You were so out of it, I was beginning to think a witch had done something to you!” 

“Oh, was I?” Yata asked, blinking slowly. “I was thinking about something.” 

Of course Yata would be the type to completely lose track of the world the first time he actually stopped to think. Kamamoto shouldn’t have been surprised by this; that Yata was someone who acted without thinking was something he knew better than anyone else. Still, it alarmed him that something had actually made the redhead use his brain for once. 

“Oh, really?” Kamamoto asked. “About what?” 

“Something important,” was all Yata said. 

“Oh. Um, anyway, I was coming to see if you wanted to get some practice in,” Kamamoto said, changing the subject to something more comfortable. It was familiar, and besides, Yata was likely to snap out of whatever funk he was in at the prospect of some action, even if it was just training. “Since we’ll be back to our old partners now,” Kamamoto added. 

Despite Kamamoto’s expectations, Yata did not grin back at him. His eyes did not light up, and he didn’t shout out a “Hell yeah!” Instead he sighed heavily, then looked Kamamoto dead in the eyes and said, “But I don’t think I can go back to being your partner, Kamamoto.” 

You could have knocked Kamamoto over with a feather. He would never have expected something like this. 

“But- but Yata-san-!” Kamamoto begun, but he wasn’t sure where to take his protests. They were supposed to be partners. And yet… 

“I just, I liked working with Saru is all,” Yata said, blushing a little. “And also I feel like since then, my wavelength’s changed, and I’m not sure I can match you anymore. I just… I kinda think Saru and I are supposed to be partners, y’know? Or- or something.” 

And Kamamoto did know. Because deep down, he felt the same. Having Doumyouji- having _Andy_ as a partner had been so satisfying. They’d just clicked so well. Yeah, Yata was his friend and he didn’t mind working with the skateboard, but to be partnered with Andy instead… 

“You’re probably right, Yata-san,” he said. 

“Wait, you think I am?” Yata asked, eyes wide. “Really?” 

And there was that sparkle that Kamamoto had expected when he’d talked about practicing together. So that’s how it was, was it? 

“I guess that means you and I are just friends from now on, Yata-san,” Kamamoto said. 

“Yeah,” Yata said, but it seemed like he wasn’t really listening. “Hey, uh, I gotta go… do something. Yeah. So uh, I’ll catch ya later, ‘kay?” He was already jogging off, so Kamamoto couldn’t have stopped him if he’d wanted to. 

It was only after Yata was completely out of sight that Kamamoto realized he still had the skater’s board. 

* * *

Fushimi was practicing by himself, and even he had to admit that he was sulking. They’d beat the witches. Hooray. But that meant that as soon as the teachers had confirmed that the poison had left their systems, they’d be back to working with their original partners, and Fushimi would be alone again. 

But hey, he preferred being alone, didn’t he? So why should he care if Yata would go back to being that chubs’s weapon? Why did it matter if Yata abandoned him without a second thought? It wasn’t like Fushimi would be bothered if the guy who he’d come to think of as his partner went off with someone else, laughed with them, smiled at them, maybe even went on dates with them… 

Fushimi swiped viciously at the air with an arm that was transformed into a blade. He wished that he could slash at his thoughts so easily. 

“Saru, there you are!” Yata said, his hands slapping down on Fushimi’s shoulders and jolting the taller boy forward. Instinctively, Fushimi whirled to attack, and only a hasty transformation back to human kept him from decapitating the redhead. “Geez, why are you so hard to find? I was lookin’ for ya!” 

“Well, here I am,” Fushimi mumbled, unable to meet Yata’s eyes. He didn’t want to be so close to someone he knew was about to leave him; it hurt too much. Yata was probably only seeking him out out of pity. He didn’t want to be pitied. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Yata laughed. He grinned at Fushimi for a long moment, but then the smile faded and he sighed. “Hey, uh, listen, Saru, about… about the whole partnership thing…” 

“Yata-san!” Yata jumped as Kamamoto strode toward them, waving a skateboard. It must be guilt, a sign that he and Kamamoto were already getting back together despite the teachers telling them all to wait for the announcement that they could return to their old partners. 

“K-Kamamoto, what are you doing here?” Yata asked, his voice squeaking. 

“You forgot your board,” Kamamoto replied. 

Yeah, they’d definitely been hanging out, and Fushimi had heard enough already. He knew when he wasn’t wanted- it was easy to know, since no one ever wanted him. As Yata hissed something about Kamamoto interrupting, Fushimi slipped away, wishing there would be some circumstances in which he never saw the skater who he’d been partnered with again. 

* * *

Fushimi was avoiding him; Yata was sure of it. Ever since Fushimi had run away when Kamamoto interrupted them, he couldn’t seem to catch more than distant glances of Fushimi. In some ways it was impressive, since Yata had some of the best mobility of any student in the school, and yet no matter what he did, Fushimi managed to evade him. But Yata felt more annoyed than impressed. And a bit hurt. 

But there was one place Fushimi definitely couldn’t avoid him: the meeting to announce that they could return to their old partners. Attendance was mandatory for all students in Class Scepter 4 and Class Homra, so Fushimi would definitely be there. Yata showed up extra early, making sure to save Fushimi a seat. He waited impatiently as all the other students arrived, one at a time, but Fushimi did not show up. It was only at the very last moment, right before the meeting began, that Fushimi finally entered the room. Yata waved at him, but either Fushimi didn’t see it, or- more likely since Yata was standing on the bench and waving both arms frantically- he ignored it, because he sat in an empty spot over near Awashima and Kusanagi. 

“Alright everyone, take your seats,” Kuro-sensei said, entering alone. It was rare to see him without Shiro-hakase and Neko-sensei. The three just always seemed to be together. “That means you, Yata-kun,” he added as Yata futilely tried one last time to get Fushimi’s attention. He slunk down into his seat, humiliated at having made such a spectacle of himself only to be ignored. 

“Isana-hakase confirmed late last night that the poison Melissa used on everyone is indeed out of your systems. You can match wavelengths with your partners again,” Kuro-sensei said bluntly. “However-” 

“Well what if we don’t wanna go back to our old partners?” Yata burst out, standing up again. He didn’t care if he looked like a fool right now, or if he got detention for this or anything. He’d already decided that he wasn’t going back to Kamamoto. His partner was Saru, and no one else. 

“Sit down, Yata-kun,” Kuro-sensei snapped. “You are by no means the first student to have such concerns. As I was saying, many of you have approached myself, Ameno-sensei, and Isana-hakase requesting to stay with your current partners. We have no objections to this, however, you do need to be certain that both your former and present partners are on board with this decision as well.” 

“Sir, if I may?” Awashima asked, raising her hand. Kuro-sensei nodded, and Awashima stood up. “I have been surveying my classmates and those of Class Homra, and while I have not been able to question everyone just yet and am still missing the input of five individuals, those that I have talked with have all unanimously been in favor of staying with their current partners. And given that one of those five just voiced his assent as well…” 

“I’m also fine with staying,” Chitose said. “So that’s one more yes for you.” 

“I think Masaomi and I must be two of the other missing opinions, and we’re also in favor of it,” Fuse said. It didn’t escape anyone’s notice how his and Dewa’s hands were loosely linked. 

“Then that just leaves Fushimi-kun,” Awashima said. 

Yata felt his breath catch. He wanted so badly to hear Fushimi say that he wanted to stay as partners. But what if he didn’t? Meanwhile, the whole room was turning to look at Fushimi, and oh no, Saru hated being put on the spot like that, there was no way he- 

“That’s fine with me,” Fushimi said, his voice so quiet and paper thin it wouldn’t have been heard if the room hadn’t already been deathly silent. 

“In that case, I do believe we will all be staying with our current partners,” Awashima said. As Kuro-sensei inclined his head in acknowledgment, the students cheered. 

Yata had to fight his way past his classmates, using his elbows generously and transforming back and forth between forms to get to the door. But he was sure Fushimi would slip out right away, and he was right. Fushimi was just outside the door, and to Yata’s surprise, he seemed to be waiting for him. 

“Don’t you want to go back to your meister?” Fushimi mumbled. 

“I don’t have a meister, I have a partner, and that’s you,” Yata replied. “U-unless you don’t want to anymore?” He looked up into Fushimi’s face, searching, and found that the other’s eyes had widened in shock, and were just a little bit watery. 

“I just thought you’d rather be with someone else,” Fushimi huffed, turning his face away. 

“Nope,” Yata replied. “I’m happiest when I’m with you.” 

* * *

The day after the decision to make the temporary partners permanent, Munakata, Suoh, Kushina, and Kusuhara all met up to train together. They would be going over some of the fancier techniques of the different weapons. Given Kusuhara’s nature, Munakata of course had several things to explain. Kushina may have figured out flight on her own, but there were still plenty of things Munakata could teach her, like the art of creating and controlling a whirlwind, or how to set up seven different kinds of traps with the grappling hook form, or the delicate balance it took to keep up both offense and defense even as Kusuhara switched forms. There was much more for the girl to learn, and Munakata didn’t mind teaching her. And in return, Kushina had promised to explain a few things she knew about Suoh. Munakata felt confident he already knew all of Suoh’s tricks, but he was willing to humor the younger meister. 

As it turned out, there was only one technique Anna really wished to explain: a maneuvering technique she referred to as “rocket jumping”. As Kushina explained it, the technique seemed to involve seating oneself on the rocket launcher and aiming him towards the ground in order to jump to great heights. Kushina claimed it could also be used to travel across distances, though she warned that it was best to keep an upward angle even when moving from point A to point B, and to aim carefully, as steering was nigh on impossible. 

Munakata found the whole concept to be utterly insane, however, he did have to admit that there was a certain practicality in it. If perfected, he and Mikoto could travel much faster, and get to higher locations in order to increase their range much more easily. But still, to use such an inelegant method was… 

All the same, Munakata thought he ought to give it a shot. It shouldn’t be too hard, after all. He was more than capable of making the necessary calculations regarding trajectory to get them where they wanted to go. Of course, since they had to practice out in the desert, there wasn’t exactly a lot of destinations they could try to target. Thankfully, Kushina was willing to help them out and offered to fly off into the distance and create sandstorms for them to try and aim for. 

Unfortunately, the whole concept turned out to be not quite as simple as it seemed. As Munakata soon discovered, mounting a rocket launcher is not the most comfortable of tasks, and even after a full minute of trying to shift into a better position, he still felt like any attempts to try this “rocket jumping” would not only result in him falling off, but they were liable to give him third-degree burns in the most inappropriate of places. And Suoh’s unseemly and vulgar commentary didn’t help much either. 

“Will you quit rubbing your junk everywhere and just stay still already?” Suoh snapped. 

“I am not ‘rubbing my, er, private regions’ against you intentionally,” Munakata protested with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. “You do realize that you are not the easiest object to mount, don’t you?” 

“That’s what she said,” Mikoto snickered. 

“What who said?” Munakata said, feigning ignorance. “Kushina-san?” 

“Nevermind,” Mikoto grumbled, sounding both disheartened and disturbed. Munakata considered that a win. 

When he finally felt that perhaps he was situated such that this technique was doable, Munakata sighted Kushina’s sandstorm, took aim, and fired. Unfortunately, his arms were used to the recoil of the weapon coming from a much different angle, and as such, his aim was skewed by the kickback of Suoh’s launch. Rather than being blasted into the air, they shot forward a few feet so that they landed face-first in the sand. 

Munakata was mortified. Never in his life had he experienced such humiliation as this failure. He was naturally gifted, and learned new things easily. And yet here he was, trying out a new technique and his first attempt had gone horribly awry. 

“I know you got some weird-ass tastes, Munakata,” Suoh drawled, “but did ya really wanna know what sand tastes like that bad?” 

“Not all of us ate the contents of the sandbox at our kindergarten, Suoh,” Munakata retorted. 

The second attempt wasn’t much better. Munakata overcompensated for the recoil and sent them in a graceful backwards arch that landed him on his back. Suoh was thankfully quiet now, but Munakata had the feeling it was because the other boy was too busy trying to keep his laughter contained to make rude comments or sassy innuendos. 

The third attempt was almost successful, but it seemed Munakata had made a miscalculation somewhere, as he overshot Kushina and Kusuhara by almost twenty yards. It was completely unacceptable. Not to mention their landing was… rough, to say the least. Munakata actually had to run a few ungainly and flailing steps to keep his balance, dropping Suoh in the process. Still, it had worked better than the last attempt. 

Munakata was not one to accept anything less than perfection. In failing to meet his personal expectations of himself, Munakata had committed himself to learning this new technique. He would not stop practicing it until he had achieved mastery. As such, while Kushina and Kusuhara flew off to find another location to use as a target, Munakata decided to practice in place a little. He used repeated bursts to send himself straight up from where they stood, letting himself fall almost to the ground before shooting off another rocket to send them back up. It was difficult, but the longer he did it the more he felt he was getting the hang of this. He smiled grimly to himself, satisfied that in the end, he would gain the upper hand against this “rocket jumping”. 

“Oy, Munakata, do I look like a freaking pogo stick to you?” Suoh asked as Munakata launched them upwards yet again. 

“Cease your complaining, Suoh,” Munakata replied. “I am merely trying to get a handle on this technique so as to be able to use it properly in the future. It will save us both quite a bit of embarrassment, I should think.” 

In the distance, Munakata saw a swirl of sand rising, and began calculating. As it came time for the next blast, he lowered Suoh’s angle, and when they launched again they flew forward, moving in a perfect parabola to Kushina’s latest sandstorm. Their landing still left something to be desired, but at least his aim was spot on. Yes, Munakata was really getting the hang of this. He would have accepted no less from himself. 

By the end of the day, Munakata was certain he had rocket jumping mastered, and Kushina had absorbed the techniques he’d shared as well. It was most satisfactory. 

It was just after dark when they decided to return to the city. Instead of returning home, Munakata and Suoh, by silent mutual agreement, headed up the many stairs to Shibusen, and once there, used their new skill to launch themselves up to the rooftop, to the very spot where they’d gotten into trouble for testing their fighting strength. Neither was very big on stargazing, with the exception of the stars in each other’s eyes, but it was still a nice place to sit in the cool nighttime breeze. 

“I think that was a most productive day,” Munakata said. “Despite your mind being absolutely in the gutter, we were able to polish a useful skill that shall surely-” 

“You talk too much,” Suoh interrupted. It was a rather hypocritical statement coming from someone who had had things to say all day, even at the most inappropriate times, but as their lips met, Munakata supposed that maybe the rocket-launcher was right. 

* * *

Awashima was feeling vaguely confused. At the end of the day’s classes, Kusanagi had been waiting for her, and had promptly asked her to accompany him outside the school. Obviously, this meant he’d snatched up a good mission for them and wanted to get on it right away. She’d happily acquiesced, because the more souls the two of them collected, the sooner Kusanagi could become a death weapon and the two of them could gain status as a death weapon pair, and also because that meant less evil in the world. But so far, they’d spent the entire afternoon wandering around Death City, and Awashima had yet to figure out what the mission even was. 

First they’d started out by heading into a shopping district. Awashima had assumed they were going to pick up some sort of supplies for their mission, like maybe they were to head to a cold climate and Kusanagi needed some new gloves or something. But instead they’d gone to a little cafe. Kusanagi had told Awashima to order whatever she wanted, and while she would have waited to eat until after their mission she had to admit she was a little hungry, so she’d gone ahead and gotten some of her favorite white bean tofu stew. Kusanagi, meanwhile, ordered some pasta, and had then proceeded to make small talk while they waited for their food. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it had perplexed Awashima, as she felt that the time spent waiting for their food would have been a good moment to brief her on their mission. 

After eating, Kusanagi had tried to pay for both of them. And in the time since their partnership had begun, Awashima had learned that Kusanagi also worked part-time at a restaurant near the school, but she had earned plenty of money herself since, back when she’d had two weapons, she’d had to pull double duty on missions and had earned a lot in mission bonuses trying to collect an even amount of souls for both Akiyama and Benzai. She could pay for herself. It was… nice, perhaps, of him to offer, but he need not have bothered. 

When they’d left the cafe, Kusanagi had led the way to an amusement park. It worried Awashima somewhat that he would opt to take a mission in such a place, as there was only so much they could control the amount of damage they did. A flamethrower was a weapon that started fires, and fires burned indiscriminately. And an amusement park had tons of people who could get hurt if things got out of control, and… 

When Kusanagi first stopped at a booth with a shooting game, Awashima thought perhaps the booth owner, or one of the participants, or even someone passing by must be their target, but then he got in line, and when they reached the front he paid for two games and handed her one of the cork guns used, saying with a cocky grin, “I bet you can’t beat me. I’m pretty good at these things.” 

At that point Awashima had realized this must be some sort of training exercise. The two of them had proceeded to knock everything off the shelves, acquiring a crowd of admirers in the process. Kusanagi had then informed the owner that they really just wanted one of the items they had technically won, which was a large blue stuffed bear. As they left the booth, Kusanagi handed her the bear, saying it was for her. Awashima didn’t understand this behavior at all, since he was the one who had wanted the bear, wasn’t he? Though it was rather cute… And really soft… And it was the perfect size for hugging… And if she was being perfectly honest, as one ought to be, it was really a nice bear and she was grateful to him for giving it to her, but she did feel rather guilty depriving him of the bear. 

After that, they tried a few more games. They took no rewards from these subsequent training modules, only played for the fun of it, and Awashima almost forgot they were there to hone their skills. That was the thing about Kusanagi, he just made things so enjoyable that Awashima really lost track of the seriousness of the world. It was thrilling, but also dangerous. They were students of Shibusen. They didn’t have time to be frivolous. 

After playing games, they began to go on rides. Awashima wasn’t quite sure how exactly those were relevant. Perhaps it was to help train them for keeping their senses even when moving at high speeds, or to help them cope with sudden changes of direction. Yes, that must be it. 

Only then they went on the Ferris Wheel. And now, here they were, sitting in a swaying gondola, on their way to the top of the structure. And Awashima couldn’t even begin to fathom _why_. 

“Oo, lucky, looks like there’s a nice sunset tonight,” Kusanagi said, looking out towards the horizon. Awashima glanced out at the sky and supposed that the mix of red, pink, purple, orange, and deep blue was indeed rather aesthetically pleasing, but that was hardly important. Or was it? Was this somehow a training exercise? Or maybe it was a mission, and they were going after someone who only came out when the sunset was particularly colorful. But if that was the case, wouldn’t being stuck on a ride be a disadvantage? 

“Y’know, I’ve been on these things before, but it always amazes me just how far you can see,” Kusanagi said, his gaze turning downward. “I mean, we’re not even at the top, and you can already see so much. Look at all those people down there!” 

Ohhhhh, so that was it. They’d gotten on the attraction so that they could see farther and more easily find their target. Why hadn’t Kusanagi just said as much? She began to try and sense the souls of those below them, seeking out any that had strayed from the right path. But everyone down there seemed to be fine, nice clear blue souls that burned purely, innocent and bright. There wasn’t a single kishin egg among them, she was sure of it. 

“I don’t think there’s anyone down there we should be worried about,” she said. “I can’t sense anyone who might be a threat.” 

“Well that’s a relief,” Kusanagi said. “Having to go all battle mode now would kinda ruin the date, don’t you think?” 

Wait, did he say date? As in… a romantic outing? But… weren’t they on a mission? 

“I… I’m confused,” Awashima admitted. “Why would we be on a date?” 

Kusanagi suddenly looked very uncomfortable. 

“Ah, sorry,” he said. “My bad, I must have misunderstood. Just, when we were discussing our partnership and we agreed that it would be good to keep working together and keep seeing each other even if our partnership ended, I kinda thought you asked me out but I guess not. Sorry for misconstruing things, Seri-chan.” 

“I did ask you out,” Awashima said bluntly. “I don’t see how you could have misinterpreted that. But what does that have to do with our current situation?” 

“Um, well, isn’t it normal for people who are going out to go on dates?” Kusanagi asked. 

“Yes, that is my understanding,” Awashima agreed. 

“Then if we’re going out, wouldn’t it be normal for us to go on dates?” 

“Not necessarily. We are students of Shibusen, and as such, our personal lives will always come second to our cause,” Awashima said. “If nothing is going on, then I suppose it isn’t a problem, but we cannot slack on our training and extracurricular activities.” 

“Okay, but there’re only like, two missions on the board at the moment, and both are already taken. It’s the perfect time for a date,” Kusanagi argued. 

“Indeed. I just wasn’t aware that you wanted to go on a date,” Awashima said. “You should have said something.” 

Kusanagi sighed heavily, shaking his head. 

“You’re right, I suppose I should have. I just assumed it would be obvious this was a date. I mean, going to a cafe, hitting up an amusement park? That’s like, classic dating stuff.” 

“Oh,” Awashima said. “My apologies. It seems I am a bit ignorant on these matters. I will try and remedy that for the future.” 

“Nah, s’okay,” Kusanagi replied. “But did you at least have fun?” 

“I did,” Awashima confessed. “A lot. I even forgot that I thought we were there to train. And also… I really like the bear.” She wasn’t quite sure why she added the last comment, but it felt important somehow. 

“I’m glad,” Kusanagi said, smiling gently. “I guess this won’t count as a date, but at least you enjoyed yourself.” 

“Did you enjoy yourself too, Izumo?” Awashima asked, because suddenly the idea of her having fun alone was horrifying, and she wanted to know that he hadn’t been suffering in silence the whole time. 

Kusanagi laughed. 

“Yeah, it’s been fun,” he agreed. 

“Good,” Awashima said. “Then I think we can go ahead and call it a date.” 

“Oh really? Then I guess that makes us official now.” 

“How are we official this time?” Awashima asked. “We’ve been officially working together for just over a month now, we’ve officially been dating for a week, and we’ve officially been permanent partners for five days, so I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you me-” Awashima cut off as Kusanagi reached across the gondola to place a hand on her knee. 

“It’s officially our first date,” he said. “That’s all.” 

“Oh, I see,” she said, swallowing hard before nodding. “Fine, we’re official.”


End file.
